It's earlyish Saturday morning and I'm plopped in the wingback chair. The bigger boys are downstairs playing while Kelsey and Z are rocked out asleep. The house is quiet, the lights are still dim, and the only thing stopping this from being an International Coffees Moment is that I can't find the stinking lid to the coffee pot...so the coffee maker sits there on the counter, full of water, full of fresh coffee grounds, yet unable to actually provide me with coffee. Glancing over at it, I think I caught it mocking me.

Bob Villa fans will remember that I had to do some work on the upstairs bathroom a few weeks back....namely, everything in the bathroom designed to drain would not, and everything designed to hold water was leaking. I got several of the job sections done but when it came to replacing all the innards of the commode, I realized that I had a custom, one-off, low-rider, hot rod toilet. Immediately I ran off to Home Depot to get the fix. I explained my delima to a seventeen year old Home Depot Commode Technician, who, with his blank stare and backwards Dale Earnhardt Jr hat, was far less than confidence-inspiring. No luck. After going to the fourth hardware store, I finally found the right flapper yesterday. Today's mission: Installation.

On a slight tangent (as if that last paragraph didn't have it's own), I double dog dare any of you to plant a church and name it Hope Depot. Do it. I dare you. Just think how clever the other church planters would think you are at the meetings. And my challenge still exists for anyone to name a church Victorious Secret. Somehow I think that might work in Oklahoma.

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