Huh?

I felt really badly when I left town on Thursday night, since it had been an extraordinarily crazy week and I had not gotten as much done as I'd intended to before I left. One of the tasks I left Glen with on that night was baking up some Amish Friendship bread starter and getting gifts for the girls' teachers in honor of Teacher Appreciation Week.

Being the trouper that he is, Glen trekked to the store with all the kids to find gifts, then labored well into the night baking up a big double batch of the Amish Friendship bread.

The girls were quite excited as they went off to school on Friday morning with prettily wrapped bread and gifts in hand, so excited that they went out to the bus stop, which is just a few doors down and across the street from our home, a little early so there would be no chance of missing the bus.

After a few minutes of being down at the bus stop Emma came racing up to the house crying because the owner of the house where the bus stop is, had run over their backpacks and bread which were on the sidewalk next to their driveway. (If I had been home there definitely would be a picture of the crumbly mess to share with you, but alas I was 2000 miles away with our only camera in my hands).

They didn't care about their backpacks, nor had they feared for their own safety, but they were both heartbroken about the squashed bread. Thankfully Daddy came to the rescue--quickly wrapped up two new loaves (thank goodness for the double batch) and sent them back on their way; hoping that was the end of the strangeness of the day. When Cami came racing back to the house shortly thereafter, Glen had no notion of what else could've possibly happened...

...thankfully there were no more crushed pastries or tire tracks across their homework. The lady was just feeling a little guilty about her driving mishap so had offered (more like stuffed) $12 into Cami's hands and then driven away.

Ummm, yeah. That was a little weird.