Stye, style, etc.

Lyla has a stye, which is like an infected pimple right by the eyeball. In college I got one on the inside of my eyelid, and I had to get it lanced and drained into the dumpster behind the clinic. Just kidding: they put some goop on it, and it went away.

Grandma Jackie took Lyla to the clinic to get some goop, and now she has to give it to her four times a day while Julie and I lounge about in Grand Marais. We owe Grandma Jackie. Big time.

Oh, and we especially owe her because now we're coming back Monday instead of Sunday. It was one of those "Hey, it doesn't hurt to ask" scenarios, and she said she could make it work. So we're buying her lots of presents.

But back to the eye stye, apparently Jackie has convinced Lyla that the best way to complete each transaction of goop is to not cry and thrash about. I'd like to know her methods of persuasion because whenever I have to give Lyla eye drops, I lay her on her back, sit so my legs hold down her arms, and then beg for forgiveness while she curses me out.

There are Lyla photos from today, but Jackie couldn't send them to me because our home computer is totally jacked, so I'll have to upload them when we get back. Until then, be satisfied with this one of me that Julie took. Just to warn you, I look like a total douchebag. I don't think a douchebaggier photo of me exists.


This was in Cascade River State Park, where we took an easy, pregnancy-friendly walk along waterfalls (though somehow took zero photos of them). I played around on the rocks and in the shallow parts of the river in these outdoorsy, strappy sandals that Julie thinks are profoundly unfashionable. Like, according to her I might as well wear them with black socks and Levi Dockers khaki short shorts.

Here she is, incidentally, the good sport reading her book on a rock while I frolicked.


Note the rad sneaks.

***Update****

Here's a photo of Lyla giving Grandma Jackie attitude.