Friday’s seven quick takes, hosted by Conversion Diary.

1. I finally have a name at work, which came about a few days ago when Goober started calling me Mama. Uh, no, sweetheart. Not your mama. “Christine” is mega-hard for little mouths (especially little mouths with expressive language delays) and so we’ve compromised on Nana. Goobrette says Nanny, but Goober has rejected that option soundly… so Nana I am.

2. I dreamed last night that tiny black-and-yellow spiders were nesting under all of my finger- and toenails. Oddly enough, in the dream I wasn’t so much concerned with that fact that this is supremely disgusting, but with the mild social embarrassment whenever one of them crawled out. Apparently tiny spiders were akin to acne; everyone’s been there, so it’s not a big deal, but you still don’t want people to notice.

3. I realised a funny thing with how I got the job working for La Saucisse’s parents. I didn’t hand in a resume, or references, or anything like that, and I think it was only on my first day there that her mother grabbed my cell number. But in the neighbourhood I work in, I am my own reference. Parents see me at the park every day. If they want to know if I’m good with children or if I’d be a good fit for their family, they can just watch me and decide. This is both convenient and daunting.

4. I went to a women’s retreat with my church last weekend. The speaker, Jane, was probably only around the age of my parents — older, but not yet old — but her face was very deeply lined. I saw when I looked closely, though, that every one of her lines was a laugh line. It was amazing to see someone who had been so marked by joy. When I am wrinkled, I hope they are laugh lines.

5. At the retreat I ended up a few times telling the story of how Stan and I got together. Our first date involved a nine-hour hospital ordeal during which he stood by my side (me being the one who needed the hospital) for six hours because emerge was so crowded. That was also the day I decided that this was the man I wanted to marry (and, lest you ask, I decided that before I had the morphine). I like telling this story; I like praising my husband in public. He’s the best.

6. Sometimes commercials make me cry, because I’m a huge sucker like that. To wit:

7. Things to do today: drink morning tea, paint toenails, fold laundry, try not to eat the entire pan of bread pudding for breakfast, drink more tea with a girlfriend, go to work, come home & feel guilty because I still haven’t done the dishes and we’re going to start running out of glasses soon.  I could do them now but I’d rather get my nails finished. Is it bad that I’m prioritizing red toes over dishes? Probably.