Well, here it is. It's the last day of the month, and I don't want a (1) sitting beside April 2013.
Can I just tell you some of the stuff that Precious has done lately?
Every afternoon this week, I've found her outside, elbow-deep in mud patties that she mixes up in the broadcast spreader.
Last Thursday night, I heard someone putting my foaming soap dispenser together. I had taken it apart to refill it, but I had been interrupted. From another room, I feebly told that person that I'd like for them to leave it alone and get to bed (while I was doing fifteen other things getting everyone else to bed). That person didn't hear me. Two days later, I discovered that the foaming pump had been refilled, and it didn't foam anymore. And I also discovered why my bathroom had been smelling very strongly of tea tree oil for the past two days.
She owed me $22-- fifteen for a new soap dispenser, and seven dollars for 2 whole ounces of tea tree oil that she had dumped into the dispenser. I might have even added a few dollars to reflect my anger at the situation. Luckily, the income from her allowance covered this expensive experiment.
While I'm on the subject of children owing us money...
Did I tell you that last year, Bubby slid down the van windshield when it was wet and busted it into a sunburst pattern? He was supposed to work for us to pay for the repair. I can't say that he's really done all of that work. The auto glass person somehow left a spot that vibrates at an e-flat when the wind hits it at a certain angle. He came back once and tried to fix it. This auto glass person is now on our list of people not to call. But, at 261k miles, who's going to complain about a little noise when the car hits a cross breeze?
And then, there's Tater, the angel-child who just turned ten months old. Except that I need to clip his fingernails so that it's less excruciating when he pinches us. It's an endearment-thing; we're his lovie. Actually, his non-human lovies are diaper covers-- the shiny, plasticized cloth ones. In his crib, he has a cover that he's outgrown, so it's not smelly.
Tater is crawling, pulling up, cruising, and "learning by taste", now. New Daddy just set him down in the room with me; about three minutes later, we heard him crying his "where are you?"-cry in the distance. He had gone to find New Daddy, and he unfortunately went the opposite way of New Daddy. New Daddy was busy tucking in the girls, but we found Tater sitting in the kitchen corner, with a teary fountain of snot coming from his nose. We smiled at him, and he was happy to see his people again. He also does his fair share of babbling, which we mostly enjoy. It's only problematic when he realizes that there's a silence right before a mealtime prayer; this is a silence that he loudly fills just as the prayer begins. When it's over, we look at each other and ask, "How does he always do that?"
It appears that April is a little less lonely, and I have a few more memories written down. Blogging is good.
Can I just tell you some of the stuff that Precious has done lately?
Every afternoon this week, I've found her outside, elbow-deep in mud patties that she mixes up in the broadcast spreader.
*edit: I just read this blog post to New Daddy, and he exclaimed, "WHAAAAT?!" when I got to this part. "She'll ruin that thing!"
Last Thursday night, I heard someone putting my foaming soap dispenser together. I had taken it apart to refill it, but I had been interrupted. From another room, I feebly told that person that I'd like for them to leave it alone and get to bed (while I was doing fifteen other things getting everyone else to bed). That person didn't hear me. Two days later, I discovered that the foaming pump had been refilled, and it didn't foam anymore. And I also discovered why my bathroom had been smelling very strongly of tea tree oil for the past two days.
She owed me $22-- fifteen for a new soap dispenser, and seven dollars for 2 whole ounces of tea tree oil that she had dumped into the dispenser. I might have even added a few dollars to reflect my anger at the situation. Luckily, the income from her allowance covered this expensive experiment.
While I'm on the subject of children owing us money...
Did I tell you that last year, Bubby slid down the van windshield when it was wet and busted it into a sunburst pattern? He was supposed to work for us to pay for the repair. I can't say that he's really done all of that work. The auto glass person somehow left a spot that vibrates at an e-flat when the wind hits it at a certain angle. He came back once and tried to fix it. This auto glass person is now on our list of people not to call. But, at 261k miles, who's going to complain about a little noise when the car hits a cross breeze?
Bubby lost his top two front teeth this week.
And then, there's Tater, the angel-child who just turned ten months old. Except that I need to clip his fingernails so that it's less excruciating when he pinches us. It's an endearment-thing; we're his lovie. Actually, his non-human lovies are diaper covers-- the shiny, plasticized cloth ones. In his crib, he has a cover that he's outgrown, so it's not smelly. Tater is crawling, pulling up, cruising, and "learning by taste", now. New Daddy just set him down in the room with me; about three minutes later, we heard him crying his "where are you?"-cry in the distance. He had gone to find New Daddy, and he unfortunately went the opposite way of New Daddy. New Daddy was busy tucking in the girls, but we found Tater sitting in the kitchen corner, with a teary fountain of snot coming from his nose. We smiled at him, and he was happy to see his people again. He also does his fair share of babbling, which we mostly enjoy. It's only problematic when he realizes that there's a silence right before a mealtime prayer; this is a silence that he loudly fills just as the prayer begins. When it's over, we look at each other and ask, "How does he always do that?"
It appears that April is a little less lonely, and I have a few more memories written down. Blogging is good.
Comments
I haven't laughed this hard since listening to Jerry Clower.
Thanks for all the real life moments...
-Daddy