He's 33 Now

Hot Brandon had a birthday on Tuesday. And I didn't blog about it.

It's been an unusual week, to say the least.

I should have known it was going to be a weird one when I pulled up to church on Sunday morning, and Brandon greeted me at the van with a bag of hair products in hand. He had run out of his his super-special conditioner, and his dry and thirsty locks just could not wait until grocery day (aka MONDAY). Brandon and his (getting longer everyday) hair stopped at the drugstore on the way to church Sunday morning and picked up some of his creme conditioner and leave-in mousse. But of course.

Later that day, Brandon met with the group he is going to Kenya with (did you know my husband is going to Kenya in a couple of months?), and they got some information about what is and what is not acceptable to wear on the trip. It appears that "the cargo shorts that you wear 350 days of the year" are on the Do Not Pack List. My extremely-hot-natured husband who is sweating RIGHT NOW, no matter what he is doing, was completely dumbstruck when he learned he was going to have to wear more clothes in the desert in the summer than he usually does in winter in Houston. Then Tim, the fearless trip leader, told Brandon about "adventure pants". Apparently, "adventure pants" are a little shorter than regular pants but longer than shorts, and are acceptable to wear on the Kenya trip.

Ladies? Do these look familiar?

Brandon can call them adventure pants if that makes him feel manlier, but I think we all know my husband will be trotting around Africa in capri pants.

Monday dawned with the opportunity for Brandon to reactivate his Man Card by building a Gaga pit at church. Yes, you read that right. Brandon, along with a couple of other guys, spent Monday building a Gaga pit in front of the church. There were drills and sawing and wood and splinters involved, and almost certainly no talk of split ends or deep conditioning or capri pants .

And what church doesn't have a Gaga pit? People who love Jesus need a place to play competitive Israeli dodgeball in an octagonal pit, too!

(*At a retreat earlier this year Brandon and the youth group played Gaga for 7 hours straight, and decided their lives would not be complete without immediate and continuous access to their very own Gaga pit. Have I ever mentioned how much I love our church?)

On Tuesday (aka Hot Brandon's birthday), Brandon had the very unusual privilege of spending the day at the hospital, where one of our youth leaders, CL, was donating a kidney to his brother in law. Happens every day, right? CL and his family learned a few months ago that their brother-in-law and close friend was going to be needing a kidney transplant, and went through the very complicated process of seeing if any of them were a match for him. What are the odds that one of them would be? Our friend and his brother-in-law came through surgery with flying colors, and CL will only have a faint scar on his belly button to show for the surgery.

Did you catch that? They pulled his kidney out through his belly button. Let that one sink in for a moment.

We wrapped up Tuesday with burgers, ugly chocolate cake, and the promise of new soccer shoes for the birthday boy.

Thankfully, Year 33 is beginning much more normal than 32 ended. The latter half of this week has been noticibly absent of construction projects, man-capris, and organ donations. This weekend we are attacking Easter with breakneck speed, with a crawfish boil, 3 consectutive ER shifts, egg hunting, and of course multiple church services and a little Gaga.

Because nothing celebrates the resurrection of Jesus our Savior like a little Israeli dodgeball.