Oh, please, please, allow me to display the goods:
For those of you not familiar with inventory you can steal from a hospital room, I will itemize, clockwise, in no particular order of "What Kind of Crazy...??":surgical mask with splash guard (gross)
Non-skid socks
Shampoo, Conditioner, Roll-On Deodorant
kidney-shaped bowl
Giant Diaper (or possibly normal-sized diaper for Giant Baby)
toothbrush & toothpaste
band-aid
lubricant jelly (can only guess Diane threw that in)
2 1/2 pairs of (latex-free?) gloves
It isn't that these items aren't useful, or appreciated. I just think Irene and her daughters figured that homemade tortillas were probably not going to get a mention on my blog as quickly as hospital sundries would. And they were right, as I would probably be spending this time eating tortillas rather than typing. Smart girls, those.
I seriously love the Francis family, and I absolutely hate that you guys even had to be in situation where you had access to these items (I hope everything is okay), but please be prepared to receive homemade gifts made out of diapers and lubricant. It's so on.
7 comments:
OMG, I'm not joking--that's the exact box of stuff I've been scouring Toys 'R Us for. Vincenzo would wet his pants if someone sent us a box like that! You don't know how lucky you are.
I smell a rigged Blog Giveaway, Rachel.
(seriously, if you want it, it's yours)
Except you can't have the shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, or toothpaste, because I kind of love stuff like that.
I am so glad you appreciated our gift to you...nothing is too good for Renee!!!LOL
Credit must go where credit is due - Mom was the mastermind behind it all. We were just too happy to assist. She is brilliant.
p.s. We will make tortillas and potatoes for you one day, but you will have to come over to eat them. That is how we do. We only make gifts of food if we get to eat them at the same time.
I said I wasn't joking and I'm seriously not. I'll even pay s&h if you'd be willing to send it my way...
Actually, I take it back. There's no "telescope," as my son calls them, nor a rectal thermometer. I guess it is a crappy gift, after all.
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