After a reasonably laid-back kind of morning, I ran around like a nut this afternoon picking up kids from the last day of school, consoling the crying one, trying to get the others to talk, then tying up various PTA-related ends (for now. Because I know they won't actually be tied up any time soon). After a trip to the post office, I swung by the grocery store for cereal and granola bars --since the short people will be home full time for the next few months and we go through cereal and granola bars like water-- and then headed back to my car to continue my errand-running expedition. I was really, really surprised to find this on my door handle:
In case it's hard to tell, that's a Hot Wheels car. It was a little smushed, but it was there nonetheless, waiting for me to find it. And when I did, I immediately thought of the most car-obsessed person I've ever known: my Logan.
I have no idea who put it there and even though I asked the responsible party to fess up on Facebook, I kind of hope they don't tell me because this way, I can pretend it was a gift from my sweet boy. And on yet another day that he would've hit yet another milestone --completing either fifth or sixth grade-- but didn't, that little nod from above was very much appreciated.
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