Today, I told a couple of people at work if they see me eating bread to literally smack it out of my hands.

“Can I really do that?” Said the adorable food-runner girl.

“Yes. I am 100% serious. I would love it.”

The next time I went back, I was chewing on an olive I grabbed from the service well on my way to kitchen.

“What are you eating?” Said the adorable semi-manager kid (I call him a kid because he’s two years younger than my oldest child. No disrespect intended. Youth is not always related to maturity. He’s a rad human.)

Gulp.

“A blue cheese stuffed olive.”

At first I thought I was in trouble, because like I said, he’s kind of a manager. Then it dawned on me:

“Oh - you were asking if I was eating bread, huh? You were ready to pull it outta my mouth, huh? Thank you!”

These kids were actually paying attention. They remembered what I said when I had so readily forgotten.

That was the best part of my day. And there were lots of good parts. And then my car died. But it’s gonna be OK. Life really is good. Really good. God is good. Really, REALLY good. All the time.