A lack of planning on your part doesn’t constitute an emergency on my part, unless I’m too sleepy to realize it’s not really an emergency

Dean abruptly awakens me from very sound slumber: “Isaac has to turn in his display board for his science project this morning, and I didn’t know that.” (How could he not have known that? I knew that, and I’m not the one who’s been doing the science project with Ike.) “We need a glue stick or something.”

I stumble downstairs, struggling my way out of my dream. (We had moved into an old house, and the hugely overgrown yard gave us a bumper crop of volunteer vegetables, including a lot of jicamas (they were small cactus-like vegetables, and although we had a lot, we were discussing whether they were worth keeping, since you had to do a lot of cutting off of prickles to obtain a small edible portion,) and, to my delight, about ten large artichokes. Dean had spread all the harvested vegetables on the lawn and we were discussing allowing members of our student ward to bring baskets and take away our excess. Meanwhile, a stranger wandered into our backyard, eating an artichoke the wrong way, starting from the top down and eating the leaves whole. She had purple artichoke flakes around her mouth. I tried to tell her the right way to eat it, but she said she always eats them this way, and she’d even written a book about artichokes. (I was trying to decide whether it was meant as a humor book.) There was also a less-pleasant part of the dream where I asked Dean to help me put the rain cover on our tent and he refused, saying I always made him do that and we didn’t need the rain cover anyway, so I did it myself and he said, “See, I knew you could do it by yourself,” and I said, “But I wanted your help.”)

Arriving downstairs, explaining that I used to stash glue sticks but that they always dry out, I blearily start rummaging and find some clear gel glue and some removable poster mounting squares, as well as three petrified glue sticks.

Dean: “Could you start gluing these on?”

Me: “I just barely woke up.”

Dean finds the Tombo adhesive roller thing in my desk drawer and starts using it to mount Isaac’s various charts and graphics.

Me: “That doesn’t hold very well.”

Dean: “It’ll do for now.”

Me: “What do you mean ‘for now?’?”

Dean: “Well, it’s not like kids are going to be trying to pry papers off the display board. Where are those pictures I printed for Ike?”

Me: “I saw them on the desk a couple of days ago. They’re probably under that huge pile of papers somewhere – Isaac, this is why I’ve told you guys not to use my desk – all these papers here are just from this week-end.”

At the bottom of the pile, Isaac finds the pictures and he and Dean put them in place. Dean grabs some packing tape and the copper pipe that’s going to go on the right side of the display board and they leave, Dean saying that they can finish up in the car in front of the school (the experiment uses three different copper pipes, actually, but Dean says they’ll “just put one on for now.”) I ask if they want clear packing tape, but Dean opts to bring the type of packing tape that has long fibers running through it lengthwise.

I don’t know whether they brought scissors.

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