BRICK!

In the Before Times, in our last house, I was having a silly little monologue and Karen was lightly paying attention. I was rambling about my house and the damn wolf kept coming around and blowing my house down and if he came around again I was going to hit him in the head with a brick. 
BRICK!
And it has been an inside joke for us ever since. 

It is a reference to the story about the three little pigs and the wolf who blows down the house made of straw, then the house made of sticks, but can't blow down the house made of brick. 

All day I've been trying to think of something that rhymes with PICK and I am not mature enough for this challenge. I was much more mature at 12. My mother described me as 12 going on 40. I was much more mature at 40 too. 

Tonight I went to the office and dropped off health insurance papers and the key fob. I danced in the office. I danced in the car. I came home to Samuel staring out the window at me, and thought, BRICK! I took a picture quickly of the brick facade with Samuel's head in the window but you can't really tell it is him and this picture of my cute neighborhood model - who walks!!!! - was much better. This is a shot of her through the "brick" window of the playground castle.  

The visit with the doctor was great. She did not say I had torn a ligament or tendon in my arm, which is what I was worried about. I am again grateful for how much I have healed since my accident - a topic we discussed during the visit. 

Don't let any wolves blow on your house.