On Sunday, we attended church services with our friends and then took the opportunity to catch up on our sleep with uninterrupted blissful Sunday afternoon slumber.
We had tickets to the pasta dinner which was talked up by friends and Runner’s World, so we decided to drive into Boston and try it out. It was fine, but we wouldn’t do it again. In fact, if that is the best pre-race pasta dinner, as Runner’s World claims, we’re probably done with pasta dinners altogether. Still, we made the most of it.
We also called the kids on Sunday night to check on them just before the handoff from my parents to Photoguy’s mom who was gracious enough to stay at our home so that Soph didn’t have to miss school. Soph anxiously grabbed the phone and announced, “Mammas let us eat chocolate really early in the morning and she said you weren’t going to be happy about it.” Sure, no talk of the endless scooter rides, story times, and how Mammas saved the day by taking Soph to a last minute birthday party invite. She just couldn’t wait to tell me all about the naughties.
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