Saying goodbye is not an easy thing for some of the members of our house, namely our oldest daughter Tori. We brace ourselves for the gut-wrenching, body-convulsing tears, actually they are more of a wail, that accompany each goodbye from Grandma's house, saying goodbye to friends moving away or the last day of school. But Sunday I found myself wiping the tears for a more unusual goodbye. Macie recently promoted to her "big girl" bed and with that step up we have done a little redecorating (pictures will follow- I am not quite done). Anyway, Jamie decided to sell his bowflex so Mace could have full use of her room space. A nice gentleman came over Sunday to disassemble and haul it away. And while they took each piece out to the van, Tori cried on my shoulder about how she couldn't believe we were selling the bowflex and how much she was going to miss it.

I wasn't incredibly compassionate considering I had no idea why she cared since she never used the bowflex and I had never heard her aspire to use it. And then she preceded to tell me she was sad because if the bowflex was gone she would no longer be able to count Jamie's reps or sit in there while he did his workout. And then somehow, in a strange way, her tears seemed warranted. It has been said of Tori that she loves deeply and I will never argue with you there--it seems even a muscle building, piece of work-out equipment is not exempt.