This is Annabelle's diaper bag. You're probably thinking, "Why is she showing us this? Who cares?"
Here's the story.
On Saturday Mark attended the WAR EAGLE Invite (age group meet) held in our hometown to sign autographs, meet the kids, support the meet, etc. Of course, because he has the best wife and daughter, the whole family packed up and headed to the pool to support him (and, really... I love a good concessions stand). Annabelle and I helped Mark set up a table, helped him display his posters, books, and most importantly, his medals, and then hung out patiently for a couple of hours while Mark did his thing (my patient waiting included having Goldfish and milk thrown up in my hand--ah, the life of an average, everyday, mother). Actually, it was fantastic. I kind of like watching him in action.
After a couple of hours, we loaded Annabelle up in the stroller, grabbed the merchandise and medals, and folded up the table.
Sunday morning, as usual, we got up, got dressed, packed the diaper bag and went to church. We dropped Annabelle and her diaper bag off at the church daycare. After the service we picked her up, chatted with friends and the headed back home.
It was a fairly normal weekend--dare I say relaxing even?
Sunday afternoon, in a hesitant voice (hesitant because he knew that whatever he was about to say would send me completely over the edge), Mark yelled from kitchen, "Ash, have you seen my medals?" Can you say: COMPLETE PANIC?
See, Mark is pretty easy going when it comes to his medals. He takes them to all of his events, lets the kids wear them, and passes them around room. Mark says that the purpose of the medals is to share them, and though this is why I love him, this is also why I have anxiety.
So, as I tried to remain cool, calm, and collected on the sofa, my heart raced as he searched all of the typical places that he normally stashes the medals. I was sure that we had either a) left them at the pool or b) that some proud kid is walking around his hometown wearing them.
It was neither. After 20 minutes of nervousness, Mark yelled to me, "Got 'em. They were in the diaper bag." Naturally. Exactly where you would think 2 Olympic gold medals would be found.
I wonder if the sweet ladies at the church daycare saw them?