I turned 36 on Saturday. We spent from about 8 in the morning to 8 in the evening unloading our truck, dividing its contents between our apartment and our storage unit. I don't think I've put in a full day's work like that ... um ... ever. I was doing pretty good not remembering that it was my birthday and focusing on the task at hand, until about 5 o'clock, when I decided I was ready to be clean and have a sit down family dinner at Texas Roadhouse. The problem with this was that the truck wasn't finished.
I settled for pick up from Five Guys. Some new friends from church showed up to help, and we went back to work. Finally got it all unloaded. Now the mess was in the apartment. The kids were cranky and feeling neglected (or put out that they had to babysit little ones all day long).
As we were trying to get everyone cleaned up and in bed, there was knockety-knock on our door. It was late, about 9:30, and our complex is gated, so I figured it was a neighbor. It was our Oklahoma church friends with cake and ice cream! They'd jumped the freight fence and walked up to our apartment to make my day special (shh! don't tell anyone). It made me cry. Again. It was just what I needed.
We are so thankful for the help that we had throughout the day. Now we'll tackle more unpacking. Yippee-skippee.
Who was it?
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