I just don't have time to blog!  Today we are getting ready to host the summer staff counselors for dinner.  We had camps big 50th anniversary celebration on Sunday during Memorial Day Family Camp.  There were tons of people at camp from the past.  So many people to talk to and see.  The kids had a blast just being at camp all weekend and visiting all the favorite program areas.  They are getting to the age where they would just live at camp if they could.  I think it will be a fun summer.  Leah woke up dry yesterday morning for the first time!  Yay!  Anyway, just wanted to share a quick funny.

Last night, I was upstairs in bed finishing up a newer version of "Jane Eyre" that I checked out of the library.  I hadn't seen it before, it was done in 2006 and it was SOO good!  Doesn't compare to the last version I'd seen of it...it was that much better.  I think it may even surpass "Mansfield Park" as my new favorite of 'those' type movies.  Anyway, so I'm upstairs and it's WAY past my bedtime, but I just can't turn it off.  And the tears start flowing as unrequited love is finally fulfilled.  The credits start to roll (hate it when that happens) and I heave a big, satisfied sigh and turn it off.  My husband wanders in about then (he was downstairs watching TV).  Glancing at his goo-goo eyed, weepy wife, he dutifully asks how I liked the movie.  "Why do you love those movies so much?", he asks.  And, I launch into a lengthy explanation on the power of restrained romance.  And, the plot of Jane Eyre.  Totally not doing justice to it, of course....but, trying to get him to feel for Jane's tragic life, the strength of her bond to Mr. Rochester, and bringing it to it's triumphant closure!  He tried to listen with interest.  So I finished my tale, and rolled over to try and go to sleep as he checked his e-mail, etc.  And I asked sleepily, "So....what were you watching?" 

"Rambo."

"You were watching....(I could hardly choke the word out)  Rambo?"   I was speechless for a minute. Then we both laughed hard at the absurdity of it.

Seriously.  Does it get any more stereotypical than that?