Poor Flaco's love of olives got him in trouble yesterday. He snatched a calamata olive from Matt and before he could stop him, he shoved it in his mouth and swallowed it whole. We didn't think much of it until about 3 am when, after two straight hours of weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth it occurred to us that maybe it was stuck somewhere in his tiny system. (This picture was taken earlier, when he was still feeling fine, but was just sad about bedtime. Obviously we didn't take a picture of him in his despair.) We called the doctor, who said he needed to go have an X-Ray, and then, just as we hung up, the pit seemed to turn and drop (it was stuck above his stomach, they said.) So just like that, in the blink of an eye, he felt better. I don't know why I've taken to narrating things out like this but I guess I just want to say that I'm grateful that once again, God took care of our boy. And I'm not really sure who reads this, but I'll write this to you specifically anyway. (Ha! Does that even make sense?) Our friend Sandra's boy Isaac has been in the hospital for over a month now with lung damage. They've had him sedated for most of this, which is kind of an induced state of coma as I understand it. I cannot imagine how painful it must be to see your son hooked up to machine after machine and to not be able to do anything to make it better. So I'm asking you to pray for this boy, that he will get well soon. There is nothing nothing nothing like a hurt little one.