Saturday, a friend of mine replaced my brake pads and rotors . When I was headed over, I got a text from his wife (a really good friend of mine) that said, “Come to the side door. We have chicken.”

I’m still laughing about that.

(Was good chicken.)

There was also a bit of excitement while I was over there re: high blood pressure late in pregnancy. All is ok.

It turned out that they’d sold me the wrong brake pads. Well, actually, much to the confusion of the guys at Advance Auto, the part was supposed to be the right part. I remembered that the box had been open and was marked as a “Return-new” so I made them bring out another box just to make sure the right parts were in the right box. Turned out that the pads in the box I was sold were not actually the pads that were supposed to be in that box.

Sunday morning TRgirl took me grocery shopping. Randy was working, so she had Monkey and Spiderman with her. Monkey wanted me to push the cart; can’t do it right now.

While we were shopping, I asked him if it was OK if PB came to his birthday party on Saturday. He said, “Yes. Just PB.” The rest of us will go out for beer, I guess.

They came back to the house so that she could help me make the beds (also difficult with one hand). We left Monkey downstairs with Chocolate Cheerios and Dora. TRgirl brought Spiderman into my bedroom, looked around, grabbed a pillow, put it in a laundry basket, and added the kid. Baby in a basket!

(I’d like to point out that my sister is an excellent mother, and it’s not like there are a whole lot of baby-containment options in my house. Still, it made me laugh.)