Sometime in the middle of the night:
He had a bad dream, and so he ends up on my couch.
8:00 or so (I know I'm spoiled-- for now.)
Johnny's serenading the family to wake up.
"Mom-may, can I play on your compooter?"
They're either laughing together or beating each other up.
Shower time. This little man pushes his way in and screams to be let in with me.
You can lock him out; he'll just scream at the door. Yes, this picture does make me sad.
At very least, 3 times a day:
"Jamison hurt me!"
John's very favorite passtime.
I typically bring in two armfuls of cans back to the cabinet each day.
Every time he needs a change:
Imagine serious fits of giggles, 'cause he thinks he's gonna get away each and every time.
And there's always that weird crap that happens.
What. Is. That. ?
Dinner's ready. Lemme just say that the idea of a ginormous sub was a big hit. Try it out. They loved layering the meat and cheese, "like that place that says 'Eat Fresh'!"
And there's nothing better than a sandwich bigger than your head.
Hey Jeff, dinner's ready. 'Sbeen ready for an hour or more. (Um yeah this is me thinking this at about 8:00 pm lately)
Or like when I made this. And I basted that son of a bleep every half hour.
It did taste good. But Jeff had eaten in his meeting that evening already. That must be a Murphy's Law. I swear it is.
So I know you can't believe the utter excitement of a typical day around here. How 'bout you?