I'm pretty sure it's my popsicles.

It's kind of fun dating a guy whose family you like, and who seem to like you, as well. (Of course, I don't really know if I would have liked New Guy's family or not, since I wasn't actually allowed to meet anyone but his autistic son, who, through some unfortunate timing, thought I personally caused tornado warnings and sirens. Needless to say, he wasn't crazy about me.)

A couple of times this week we've gone swimming with Hot Sis and Nephew. Last night I offered to bring over frozen veggie burgers and fries and fix dinner, too. They're mostly vegetarian, but Nephew has been exposed to American junk food at summer camp, and loves burgers and dogs, so I thought I'd show them how he can have those things without meat being involved.

Big hit. Sis thought they were delicious, but kept asking, "are you SURE there's no meat in here?" Nephew didn't care WHAT they were made of, he just loved them. He ate THREE burgers. (Didn't care for the fries, though...what kind of 7-year-old kid doesn't like fries?)

I also brought a box of popsicles, and he had about four of those, as well. Sis said they had similar treats in Lebanon, but she hadn't thought to look for them here. Nephew just kept saying, "I did not know there was such a thing as 'popsicle' in America!" It was cute.

After our swim, I found out that Sis is a whiz at "foreign object implanted in your foot" removal. I broke a perfume bottle a couple of nights ago, and apparently didn't get it all swept up. Yesterday morning I stepped on a shard of glass. HARD. I poked around in there while cleaning it up, and thought maybe I had gotten it out, but by last night it was clear there was something still in there. I decided to take another go at it after our swim, when my feet were all soft and waterlogged, and spent about ten minutes poking around unsuccessfully. I could FEEL the glass with the tweezers, way in there, I just couldn't quite grab it. Nephew was quite concerned--"there is red, there is red!" (He apparently didn't know the word for blood.) "You need an ambulance! You need an ambulance!" Hot Med, a bit skeptically--"DO you need ambulance?" NO! I do not need an ambulance, for pete's sake. Eventually Sis offered to try. She got a needle and some tweezers, rammed 'em in there, and pulled out a piece of glass about 1/4" long. We all marveled at its size. I told her she could send me a bill for glass removal, or I could pay in popsicles. Heh.

Before I left, Nephew asked hopefully if I would be coming to swim again tonight. (Answer no, Hot Med is working.) My heart was a little warmed by his asking, but I'm under no real illusion that he's THAT fond of my company.

I'm pretty sure it's my popsicles.

In other news, my eye is still red, two weeks after wonky lash removal. I left a message last week with the doctor's office, asking if it that was okay, or if I should be worried. No one ever called back, which I found appalling, frankly. I tried again today--the girl who answered had no excuse for the unreturned call, but apologized and said she would relay the question to the doctor right away and call me back. She was true to her word--she called about ten minutes later to tell me the doctor wasn't worried--it USUALLY clears up faster than that, but not ALWAYS, and they would be happy to squeeze me in next week if I'd like him to take a look at it. I told them I'd give it a few more days first. I really just wanted to hear someone tell me I'm still within the bounds of normal. Normal for me always being something of a subjective thing. Heh.

Those of you so inclined, please think good thoughts/say prayers for a friend of mine who's been discovered to have a brain tumor. The biopsy results aren't back yet, so they don't know exactly what they're dealing with, but...a brain tumor is never good. And she doesn't have health insurance, so...send some good juju her way, please.

Mr. Monk is back tonight! For the final season! They'd better by god tell us who murdered Trudy. I'm just sayin'.

Good weekends, everyone.