Fortunately

While waiting an hour to get my transmission serviced and having eaten a Chipotle burrito so big it ought to be outlawed, Mack and I wandered into the ever-fragrant Sqecial Media on Limestone to waste some time. I used to love to go to Paisley Peacock to look at jewelry and then head upstairs to take in the walls of books, magazines and cards that make up Sqecial when I was in high school. Well, Paisley closed down, not at all because the face-pierced, belly-up creep who ran the place made the entry way smell like a retirement home, so today Sqecial was all we had. I looked at the art magazines and wanted to be an artist. Then I went to the yoga magazines and wanted to be a yoga master. Then I headed over to the handbags and decorative boxes and wanted to be Indian.

It was a little trip around the world, ending up in a far off land in Asia... the one where squirming fortune teller fish abound... and some village in Guatemala, where microscopic children make worry dolls for little children. I hadn't seen fortune teller fish since my days at the skating rink until this Christmas, when Leiah officially made holiday crackers a new tradition. Shannon and Charles had brought some crackers over from England last year, which is why in our family Christmas picture we're all wearing tissue paper crowns. The crackers each have a surprise inside... a keychain, a plastic motorcycle, a fortune teller fish, in mom's case. I bought one for 19 cents today at Sqecial, hoping that its moving head, moving tail or curling sides would tell me something about myself and others that I might not be able to tell myself.

Turns out, I'm jealous at first, then the tail starts moving and I'm in love, and before too long, the thing curls up entirely and I'm passionate. Who knew?

Rediscovering worry dolls was even better than finding the fortune teller fish. We had these dolls when I was in elementary school, but I never really knew what they were for. I knew I liked to play with them and I appreciated that they came with their own little decorative storage bag and I loved that they were miniature. Turns out, worry dolls are little martyrs, existing solely for the purpose of doing your worrying for you. Tell them your woes, and they'll try to fix them for you. Much more trust-worthy than a priest, the dolls come in multiple sizes and genders, and the longer you stare at them, they also seem to come with multiple personalities too. All this for only a buck.

During our voyage to foreign lands, Laila called to ask for help deciding what to take to Fun Friday's show and tell. I suggested her chess set -- "that's nuts" -- and her Iran book -- "I already did" -- until she finally came up with something on her own -- "I'll take teddy." Good, none of the other kids will have seen a teddy. So, I'm gonna send Laila the Guatemalan worry dolls from Kentucky and replenish the Fun Friday offerings for those little kindergarteners at California's Hancock Elementary.

It's a small world, after all.