spaghetti, anyone?

In spite of being sick, I just had to get out and go to church yesterday. We ordained two of my favorite men in the world (from my favorite families) as deacons. They are so special to us that they were both pallbearers at my mother's funeral. I just tried not to get too close to or breathe on anyone. My make-up was lovely; since my cold has moved into both eyes, leaving them glued together in the morning and swollen and red during the day, I was afraid to apply make-up in the usual way, not wanting to contaminate and have to throw away a perfectly good tube of mascara. If there's one thing I learned from my mother it was this: even if you feel like hell, you put yourself together the best you can. Work with what you've got, honey! So I applied eye make-up and mascara with my fingers (you're not going to find make-up tips for this anywhere since no one in their right mind would recommend it), put on my glasses (don't want to have to toss a pair of contacts, either), and thoroughly washed all my make-up brushes. I stayed home sick today, but I'm awfully glad I was there yesterday.

On the way home, my seven-year-old daughter (currently sporting an absence of front teeth) asked me a question I hear quite often, "Mommy, what do you want me to draw?"

I mentally riffled through my usual suggestions, but a girl can only draw so many butterflies, flowers, and babies. My eyes turned to the monstrosity of metal and concrete overhead, and I said, "Spaghetti junction."

Dead silence from the back seat, and then, "Uh..., could I just draw spaghetti?"