Narcoleptic tuck-in

Tonight, after 11hrs ER work and 1.5hr church, I was bushed. Gwen and I frequently sing some songs before bedtime. While laying in her bed, I played guitar and we sang the words. I repeatedly fell asleep in the middle of songs. Gwen would wake me saying "Dad, keep playing." and I'd start up again. This probably happened 6 or 7 times over several songs. The last time I distinctly remember dreaming of opening an abscess at work and when I woke to "Keep playing, dad.." I said out loud (no exaggeration) "I think that's all the pus there is." I worked nights most of May and flipped to daytime today and am out of sync with daylight cycles.

Last weekend I went with a group from church to Mezquital along the coast of Mexico (the barrier island that is part of the Padre Island barrier system). It was a great trip. We had 4 doctors on this one. 103 healthy patients were seen and we played some soccer, jumped from big sand dunes (That's Daniel face-down after a big jump), and ate some spicy seafood (Daniel sweating after too much habanero sauce saying "I can't feel my tongue.") before coming home around midnight. There was also a baby that looked like a Mexican Orson Wells. It was the funnest trip yet. Monday a childhood and onward buddy Casey visited and brought a 9ft, 8in surfboard. It lacks a fin but I'll fix that and maybe actually be able to stand on this thing. Yesterday was my first day off work without any obligations elsewhere in a long time and I stayed home all day and goofed (and swam) with my girls. For some reason I can't arrange these pics like I want. Maybe later.