So Hubby and I were up in Chicago last weekend, enjoying one of our favorite cities. Hubby is a Chicago native, but left when he was ready for middle school and his dad got transferred overseas to South America.
Anyway, it's a great city. We had a lot of fun, went to the Randolph Street Market to look at the most amazing antiques and collectibles, checked out our favorite bookstores and ate vast quantities of Italian food. We were having a conversation while walking through the market about some landscaping ideas and yard work we needed to get done. Specifically, borrowing our friend Mr. Littlebird's pickup and getting a load of mulch. And this is where I apparently lost my mind.
"I'll be working all week at the museum," says Hubby. "That means you'll have to get the mulch since I won't be home until 7:00 pm or so."
"Yeah, I suppose, although it will be late afternoon before I can get out of school and hook up with Mr. Littlebird," I respond.
Hubby looks at me weird. He shakes his head. "Honey," he says. "You're out of school. Your last day was Thursday."
And it dawns on me that he's right. That I actually forgot that the school year was over and I was free (well, except for a bunch of in-service workshops).
"Oh," I say, "I forgot."
Hubby shakes his head. "You work too hard."
Honestly, though, I had a good group this year. Maybe I was just hoping it wasn't going to end.