Cardiogirl 19 percent body fat 100 percent fun


bikes, theology and viruses


Our oldest daughter has outgrown her 16-inch bicycle and our middle daughter is too big for the tricycle. So it's time for everybody to upgrade. But before I put the training wheels back on the 16-inch bike I wanted to get a 20-inch bike for our 7-year-old. If you haven't been in the market for a new girl's bike lately, they can range in price from $50 to $100.

When you are a one-income family with three kids, two of whom attend Catholic school (which requires tuition ten months out of the year) $50 is a lot of money. First I tried our local Salvation Army. No luck. On my way home from there I saw a sign for a three-house mega garage sale. No luck there, either. So, as I am wont to do, I turned to the internet.

I never knew Detroit had a Craigslist. The first time I even heard of that was at Lollygrass' site. She lives in Seattle, I believe, and she was writing about the San Francisco Craigslist. So I just assumed San Francisco was the only town lucky enough to have an online classified section, silly girl that I am. But as it turns out, little ole Detroit has one as well. In a matter of 20 minutes I secured a very gently used 20-inch purple and pink girl's bike for $25 and I only had to drive five miles to retrieve it!

As any parent will attest, the best part of this deal is that the bike was fully assembled and ready to ride. This means we avoided our 7-year-old hanging over our shoulders, bike parts spewed about the basement floor, nagging us by asking every five minutes, "When is my bike going to be ready? I want to ride my bike!"

So I was feeling like a financial bad ass after my daughters and I picked up our new set o' wheels. When we got home both girls immediately strapped on their helmets and hopped on their new rides. Much fun was had all afternoon.

Meanwhile, the next door neighbors were out all afternoon as well with their four kids (three boys aged 6, 4 and 2 and a seven-week old girl). This worked out well as their boys play pretty well with my girls. In between watching the kids I was chatting with the neighbors (both husband and wife were out working on the front lawn).

As we were chatting I noticed the wife's eyes were bloodshot and red. (Remember this, it's going to be important later.) Earlier she had casually mentioned she had a rough day on Friday with the kids and I figured she had been crying, what with hormones still raging and all. Since I have been there before, I didn't ask her if she had been crying. I was trying to respect her privacy, you know. And when I was seven weeks out from delivery a question like that would start a crying jag in me. So I was sure not to mention her "looks" if you will. We kept the conversation light all afternoon. Later in the day she also mentioned she did not have her contacts in and couldn't really see what was going on. Hmm.

So around 4:00 I left to go to Confession and my husband herded the kids into the back yard. Side note: I sat in the pew staking out the door to the confessional for one hour. No sign of the priest. Finally five minutes before mass began I found our priest and said, "Dude, are you going to hear Confessions today?" (We're friends, he's only 44 and he allows me to call him Dude.) He said he had a homeless person show up in his office and that's why he was so late. (He is chronically late and I don't know that I believe what he's telling me, but whatever.) He also absolved me of missing mass for the last three Sundays, said I could get Communion today and to come back next Saturday for a full Confession. Works for me.

Alright, I get back home just before a torrential rain storm complete with thunder and lightning unleashes itself. Thanks for holding the rain til I made it in the door, God. Cut to 2:00 am. I wake up and my eye is bothering me. I rub it, that doesn't help. I get up to investigate in the bathroom and my left eye is PINK.

That is the precise moment all of the pieces fell into place.

About a week ago my neighbor mentioned her 4-year-old had Pink Eye. She kept all of her kids in the back yard for the next two days and my kids stayed away. Then he was cured and they began to play with each other again.

In the bathroom I remembered her saying she was not wearing contacts. I remembered both of her bloodshot eyes and how I assumed she was hormonal. I also remembered that I picked up the tray that she had set out for her kids' lunch. That must have been where I picked up the virus.


I guess this goes to show that not everything is quite what it seems. Or is it that God works in mysterious ways?


2007-06-03 at 8:02 a.m.

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