Mr. Wes.

We made it safely home from Boston about two hours ago. As much as I love my bestie, her family, her beautiful home – I’m happy to be back on Southern soil!

Now, before I get to the point of this post I need to deal with the elephant in the room…

The earrings.

After agonizing for months about whether or not Sarah would get her ears pierced when she turned 7, she finally made a decision. A very Pi’bears decision. Instead of facing the needle gun she would just make her own (paper) earrings. She now has a (cardboard) jewelry box full. This should not surprise readers of this blog. Hoops are her favorite. This should also not surprise readers of this blog. She is her mama’s child afterall.

Now, back to the post at hand.

Last week our kind and lovable Mr. Wes came by to deliver a birthday gift for Sarah.

Mr. Wes has been Brent’s carpooling buddy since the early days of our time in Huntsville. And he’s been a fixture at virtually all neighborhood gatherings for almost that long. He rarely gets a mention though because he’s usually standing in the corner, making wisecracks and avoiding my camera. He’s known strictly as “Mr. Wes” to all of us…down to every last grown up, for reasons I can’t entirely explain.

Mr. Wes used to come over for dinner more often, back in the days when I cooked well and often. These days I either cook well or often, but never both. So we don’t host guests quite as frequently.

Not that Mr. Wes is considered a guest. He’s more like family. The kind of family that stands in the corner, making wisecracks and avoiding the camera. You’ve got one of those too, don’t you?

For a single guy Mr. Wes is a surprisingly astute gift giver. And he never, ever, ever misses a birthday. In fact, his yearly call to ask what the children might like for their birthdays is usually my reminder that they do, in fact, have birthdays coming up. Thanks for that Mr. Wes.

This year he had two things in mind for Sarah -

patterned Duct tape…

and an American Girl gift certificate.

It goes without saying how this went over with the 7 year old in the house.Thank you Mr. Wes, for being so darn lovable. Even when you avoid my camera like the plague and refuse to take my relationship advice, you’re still on my good list. And that’s saying something.

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