Day 4 was a fun one for Marlie and I because it was our last night away so we went out for dinner. When you have five kids and only one income, dinners out are a huge treat! Shoot, ordering pizza is a treat in our house... so she and I both were excited. Finding something open wasn't easy, because where we were staying is a bit more rural and spread out than we are used to. So we went to the only restaurant in town.
I knew that a generous tip for the server would be the easiest and most obvious act of kindness for the day, although I was tempted to bring homemade brownies to the alpaca farm across the street from where we were staying.
In light of recent legalization efforts around the country, however, I figured most people would Just Say No to questionable brownies from strangers. So, we went with the generous tip plan as originally intended.
Our server was very friendly and did an excellent job. He remarked on how well-mannered Marlie was and he even brought her a complimentary piece of birthday pie. It was all very sweet. (He and the pie.) He mentioned that he had only been working there for a couple weeks and was just returning to the area and didn't have a car. We joked about how it is not exactly a great commuter town. I refrained from suggesting he try to rent an alpaca to ride and instead decided to make a very small contribution to his car fund, to write him a little note and then let his manager know what a great job he had done waiting on us.
I wasn't sure how much to tip at first, but when I got the bill for a little over $17, I knew my answer. Adam was 17 when he passed away, 17 was his soccer number... AP #17 was worn on his teammates jerseys, warm-ups and cleats for years. It was my soccer number and my sister's soccer number and it is now my nephew's jersey number. My nephew, Adam, name after his uncle. So, the $17 tip on the $17 bill was a no brainer.
For Day 5, me and this stud tried to be neighborly and bring in everyone's garbage cans.
My youngest son, Jay, was quite the gentleman, responsible for the recycling bins. He took the job very seriously, as you can tell by the fishy face.
It felt a little trespass-y I'm not gonna lie. But, we pushed through those social norms and just did it. It went fine, unless the house did not have any recycling bins... In that case, Jay would stop in horror and shout "I not a gemmamin!" And then this happened.
Face down. Sobbing.
And maybe a little rolling.
But as long as the house had recycling bins to tote, he was back to being a perfect gemmamin.