A promise is a promise so here it goes, but first I must explain my title: I know very few specifics pertaining to its origination, however I do remember my sister and I once referring to any pain in, on, or around our heads as being a "head cake." Still to this day I use this term when conversing about head ailments with my kiddos.
As for myself, I do get headaches from time to time but opt only to reference a "head cake" as needed. To clarify - aches only ache, but when the ache itself becomes more of a pain it graduates to a "head cake." It truly becomes something of more substance, if you will, like a big thick chocolate cake heaping with globs of heavy dark chocolate icing. A migraine, for instance, would be a multi-layered cake drowned in vats of thick icing.
So the title? I went to bed with a headache and woke with a "head cake." Thus, the title. Others considered were, "Thanks for The Advil," "Move Over Gooch," and "Sleeping with hp." I think I chose well, though the Advil are starting to kick in. Hopefully I should begin to make more sense or fall asleep. No need to tell me which you're hoping for.
Okay, so what'd I promise? A flashback: lunch at Turoni's Saturday may have helped bring it on. I so love their cheesey toast. During college, I'd go there and just eat that - two orders a time (one for an appetizer and one for my meal). How'd I ever stay so skinny? Dunno, but I'm payin' for it now. We spent time with our now dearest of friends. Hello! You know who you are! And dang, wasn't that good? Could we get some more milk, please?
Then on the rainy ride home I caught my sweetheart glancing over at me. BAM! No, we didn't wreck. I just experienced a deja vu like memory. We had been on a similar ride back from a shopping venture to Evansville years ago, when he'd given me that exact same glance. The differences being - we were in Jason's GranPrix and it was just me and him.
It was was May 4, 1996 and we had been shopping for my birthday present. Aside from car stereo equipment this purchase had been his first real "SIGN HERE SIR" moment. I was so excited I may have peed my pants a little even back then. He took me with him to the mall (yeh, I used to could walk the mall and even rollerblade downtown - those were the days!). Never a big fan of crowds I had thought, "Why the mall?" Just as I had thought, "Why BestBuy?" And alas, we had gone there to pick out an engagement ring. Wooo! Hooo!
Picked out, loan signed, boxed up and straight to the glove box. WHAT? That about killed me. My gorgeous, sexy knees mere inches away from that poor, delicate boxed up diamond. It had to be scared of the dark in there with only two wedding bands to keep it company. It was 9 whole days til my birthday. But why should I have to wait til then? "My birthday is already special," I argued, "so why shouldn't we make another day special too?"
He called me on that one answering, "You know you're right. We should wait til sometime after your birthday." Yikes. WHOA! Had I made a mistake? 9 days is way better than who knows how long! And then, (Dave Schroeder are you reading this?) he drove straight to Dave's old house and parked his car the exact same place he'd had it parked when he'd first asked me out and offered me his class ring.
I musta held my breath the entire time he parked the car, dug in the glove box to fetch the diamond, and moved his seat back to take a knee - 'cause I was extremely light headed when it was finally my turn to speak. He had spoke so eloquently about how this is where we'd first really met, where we'd made things official with his class ring and blah, blah, blah ----> fast forward ----> "YES! ABSOLUTELY, YES! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! YES!"
So then we went to show his parents and I remember his mom practically falling off of the couch. Apparently, they had no clue. That or they deserved Oscars for their performances. Then to my house where dad seemed proud and mom was all cool like, "Yeh, I thought that might have been about to happen." I could see the wedding planning gears starting to turn in her head. I didn't sleep at all that night. I just couldn't with my reading lamp on overhead. And I couldn't turn that out 'cause I couldn't stop looking at my ring.
So back to 2010. After having this brief "away time" or some call 'em "senior moments" I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I think I even giggled. So with Jason's next glance my way he asks, "Whatcha smilin' about?" When I reveal the deja vu to him that goofball retorts, "That's funny considering I still had a few options as to who I was gonna give that ring to."
Expecting just that type of blissful sarcasm, I unblinkingly respond, "Well, I know the computer is mine and I'm opening it today." I find ignoring his arrogance gets his fire fueled far better than responding. And he knows me all too well too responding with, "We'll see." I LOVE THIS MAN AND I AM SO BLESSED TO HAVE HIM IN MY LIFE!!!
Perfect segway to move on to Sunday's sermons. I spent the Sunday School hour between Jason and my G'pa. In the house of the Lord between these two guys I felt so loved and nearly indestructable. Then came our message: It began asking who here was suffering. I nodded my head yes. I wasn't the only nodder, but that gave me no comfort, for once the lesson was complete I knew I had been wrong.
Stories told of Christians suffering and even marching proudly in to their deaths brought it home that WE DON"T KNOW WHAT IT IS TO SUFFER! So basically suck it up buttercup,and PRAY! To paraphrase, big time: We need to pray more. Not just in the bad times, but in the good too. If we don't converse with Him ALL the time then how is He to know us in the bad times when we need Him most? How is it that my church always seems to know just what to say and how to say it? I love you Pt. Township and I love the Lord.
Now on to the church service. Well, Ashley was home so she sang with Angie and Andrew. It was awesome. Not cause I'm a sucker for a bass or because I'm related - these guys actually rock! The entire congregation was clapping along and if I may say so a bit disappointed they only sang one. Then we had an evangelist speak. Let me start by saying that listening to him only once was not giving him a fair chance and I do intend to return during revival and give him another listen.
However, with that disclaimer said, I cannot recall what his message was. He did yell quite a bit more than either me or my boys are used to. The boys left feeling they were in trouble for something. Jason's head ached and my "head cake" may very well have been on its way to the oven. Sadly, I'd taken nothing away from his preaching. Perhaps I'd been too distracted by the phenomenal Sunday School lesson. Or maybe, the underlying message was to CALM DOWN.
No, not the evangelist necessarily - me! All the ranting and raving I'd been doing about CCSVI wasn't getting me anywhere but stuck on the corner of tire and frustrated. So why not just tell the story? No screaming. It's plenty powerful just spoken softly. If you haven't seen the before and after post I put up, go to it, and see for yourself what I am talking about. Truly in this instance we may catch more flies with honey or a chocolate triple decker "head cake."
The afternoon was nice and relaxing though. The boys gamed and I blogged. Then via Netflix we introduced them to an all time fave of mine and my sis' - "Drop Dead Fred!" Remember that snot face? They loved it. Gooch out. Bed by 8. A very successful weekend indeed. A king-size KitKat later, did I cover everything I'd set out to this beautiful Monday afternoon? Who knows?! My memory is slipping.
Either way, I'm out! I got stacks of papers to fill out for my upcoming neurosurgeon appointment and I still haven't seen the new "Grey's Anatomy" from Thursday. And what's a girl gotta do to get a nap around here? I need more Advil. Or KitKat. Or Pepsi.