And then it dawns on me: Bea is not here. She's upstairs--we hear rattling and banging. How is it that she has kept herself so busy up there?
Martin comes down with a report: Bea has stripped her clothes and diaper. She has started a bath for herself, pulled down the bath toys, and is squatting in the tub. On the landing: a perfectly laid turd.
Happy Saturday, everybody!
Today: Martin plants sugarsnap peas, the kids play outside in the garden and under the tree that split in The Snow (here with our friends the T. children), and I frost two dozen cupcakes for a violin recital.
Right Now: Six robins and a squirrel beckoning us to leave the pancake dishes and run outside!
1 comment:
At least she picked a nice flat spot.
When Ariel was around the same age, he decided that the little plastic play houses they had on display in the big box store were made for just such an activity.
So he went inside and did just that.
I wandered off and pretended I didn't know either one of them.
Saturday's full of chaos, wonderful memories!
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