Weekly :)

What did I do this week?

Well, I'm beginning to like Mondays, Tuesday and Wednesdays. They're so quiet. So uneventful.

I do school and then- the day is mine. Sometimes I read Harry Potter. Occassionally I clean my room. I go for walks. I listen to music.

Thursdays are a little different.

I work on Thursdays.

And it's not so bad. I mostly make sandwiches...and wraps, which, I admit, are pretty tasty-looking. And I serve little children. Big eyes look up at me from below and hands rest on the counter trying to see above it.

I think I scare them sometimes. Especially when they say something like- "can I have a slush puppie?"

And I'm like- "What's that?" and lean in real close to get a chance at hearing their whispers. And they stare at me with large eyes and whimper a little before stuttering out their question again.

But it's still good.

And Fridays. They are busy. I help a friend with cleaning and babysitting. Then I have girl's group. Then youth group.

I like helping this friend though. Because she happens to have a very cute toddler, and a very adorable baby.

It was kind of funny on Wednesday. I was helping this friend. I was sweeping the back veranda while she sat out there feeding the baby. I lifted a cushion on the outside chair, screamed, and let go of the cushion, jumping backwards.

She stared at me.

"There was a mouse."

"Are you kidding?"

I shook my head.

"I don't like mice."

"Me either."

So for the next few minutes we had a bit of fun. We dragged the chair as gently as possible out onto the grass and squealed as the mouse jumped out at us. I grabbed a broom. My friend grabbed a cricket bat. We were armed. We were ready.

The baby started to cry. "Normally my husband hits the mouse over the fence with the cricket bat!" she said.

Finally the mouse crawled under a bin.

"I'll lift up the bin and you hit it with the cricket bat," I said. She nodded.

"Go!"

I lifted it up. The mouse, crushed under the weight of the bin lay on it's back. All four of it's legs waved feebly in the air. "Finish him!" I urged.

"I caaaaaan't!" she wailed. "I can't do it!"

I thrust the bin back down and took the bat in irritation. "I'll do it then!"

She lifted it. And I couldn't do it. It was just too innocent. So we left it under the bin for a while. Then we chucked it over the fence.

Strange experience.