This morning, we spent an amazing day at the Houston Children's Museum (never fear... adorable pics of my nephew to come!).
We ate lunch at Fuddruckers (complete with awesome Jalapeño Cheese Sauce) and as we were finishing... we got a call that grandma was in an ambulance on the way to the hospital.
BJ, mom and I jumped into the Tahoe and away we went. My heart was racing. This is the third Christmas that something has happened. Last year it was her gall bladder. I wasn't sure if we would be as blessed this year...
We pulled up and raced inside. Got lost. Got found by the kindest nurse ever. (Thank you, Owen). He took us through all the secret hallways that you need a badge for and we went straight to her room.
I immediately told her that if she didn't like my Christmas cooking, that she could just stop rushing to the hospital every Christmas to avoid it. (I'm witty and appropriate that way).
She was in pain. I could tell. I know my Grandma. She has lived with a severely hurt back for years and years. She doesn't fuss about pain. She just keeps on trucking. So, to see her hurting took my breath away.
My mother's sisters (Aunt Sue and Aunt Margaret) and Uncle Mark were there.
Mom's family has an adorable reputation for being WAY TOO LOUD!
Well, we were quite reserved today, until the jokes started. I'm pretty sure that the people next to us were rolling on the floor. The nurses light kept going off ~ I'm sure it was because they wanted to share the jokes they were hearing.
And then it happened. Aunt Margaret said a good one. We rolled. And then we were dismissed.
I just thought you should know.
Embarrassed ever after,
P.S. Grandma is doing great. Overnight just for observation. She'll be here tomorrow evening to bake cookies. Thank the Lord above. It just wouldn't be Christmas without an icing fight.
P.P.S. You don't think mom will kick us out of the kitchen, do you?