When BJ was out, Bella had a seizure.

Mike was home with Liza yesterday, as she was seriously illin'. Having thrown up three times the night before, the first two times in her parents' bed, she stayed home from school and watched television, slept, lounged about the house and basically did nothing more than heal. Taking Maeryn to school, therefore, became a dilemma for Mike: how do you get one kid to school while not making the other kid worse?

Here I come to save the day! Mighty Mouse is on his, oh, wait.

I dashed over in the morning, then again in the evening, to "watch" Liza while Mike did the kid shuffle to the day-care. Little problem for me, as I just jumped on his 'net connection and kept working. BeeJ was understanding, and cleaned up when I left the first time, and just kept working on the video the second time.

Today, Mike wasn't so lucky. Instead of his kid throwing up all over his bed, he was throwing up all over his bed. On the last clean set of sheets.

Okay, maybe not, but he was sick and unable to take Maeryn into school in the morning. I had to dash to the airport to send BeeJ on his merry way with a video tape of the two of us (scary), a copy of my passport and a memory stick with several pictures he needed for the application. When I arrived home, I ran over to Mike's house, grabbed the kid, and took her to school. I didn't expect to pick her up from the school in the evening, but I managed to get the first pass of my work done at 5:20, so I would be able to get the little one from school.

I drove over, on a nominally empty tank, went in, found the classroom, and gathered up Maeryn's stuff. Just as I was buckling her in to go, a mom came in for another kid, Camilla (the kid who had just spent the last five minutes screaming at me as I gathered Maeryn up). I tried very hard to get out of the cramped hallway with baby, bottles, hat, car carrier, dirty clothes, tiny gift for Liza and my keys, when the mother cornered me.

"Oh, she's so cute!"

"Thanks!" I said, thinking, "Not my kid, lady. Mine would look like a toad."

The teacher said, "Tell Mike hello, and that we hope he feels better soon."

"Thank you. I will," picking up Maeryn.

"She's adorable. How old is she?"

"Pardon?"

"She's adorable? How old?"

"Um...."

I deperately started looking around for help.

What or who I was looking for, I have no idea.

"Uh... Um.... Six months?"

The mother looked at me shocked. What kind of mother doesn't know down to the minute (second?) how old her infant child is? What kind of monster was I?

The teacher, Carol, saved me.

"Five months. August, September, October, November, December."

The mother looked at the instructor, at me, back to the instructor, back to me, in confusion.

"Neighbor's kid."

Two days before his birthday, BJ came out to visit me. He came with a mission, and a task. There's a casting call for the tenth Amazing Race, and he wanted to apply for the show. Applying requires an application with enough information to completely steal an identity (including passport number and pictures), as well as a three minute personality video.

I have previously submitted an application (with Mark), and wasn't particularly looking forward to creating another video. I mean, if you can't get on the show by eating a raw egg (by which we mean eating the whole egg, including the shell, which Mark did), then I'm not sure what you need to do to get on that show.

We used a "BJ and the Bear" trucker theme for our video, complete with hayseed in the teeth, trucker hats and flannel shirts. We filmed together, but BJ did all the editing. I gave feedback, but for the most part, he did the work. It's pretty funny to me, though perhaps less so for him (or the show producers). We used Mike's camera, after buying a new firewire cable for it, so transferring the data to the laptop was incredibly easy. The editing took Beej a good five hours, so I'm glad I had him do it.

After the contestants are announced, if we don't make the next cut, we'll post the video online.

Maybe.

Last night, Kris and I journeyed north to the City to have dinner with Cal and Elina. The two of them have been hot for Ariel's family's tortilla recipe ever since they were over for communal dinner a couple months ago. Not that I blame them, they're tasty little things.

We showed up, and Kris was immediately as mesmerized with the view as I was the first time I went. Not that I blame him, it's still impressive.

The evening was awesome, as Elina and I made the tortillas, and the four of us talked about this and that and other things. I failed to follow my number one rule about teaching, though, and that's to let the person learning do all the work. I think Elina had enough hands on experience to do fine the next time she makes them. The goodies inside the tortillas were amazingly delicious and I'm hoping she'll send me that recipe back.

During dinner I had asked about Elina's first term at school, so after dinner, I asked if she had any work she could show-off to us. She did, and showed them to us on her really amazingly cool, really big monitor (one of those nice 30" Apple monitors that you just want to lick). When I said to Kris, "I want," he responded, "If you clean out the office, I'll get you one."

I turned to Elina and Cal, and replied, "You're my witnesses."

Kris is fairly confident he has a long while before he has to shell out the moolah. I can't say he isn't right.