In recognition of the responsibilities accruing to my new position as part of the hallowed Finslippy blogroll (thank you, Alice, and that thing we talked about? DONE!), I offer a few tidbits about the zany antics of my children:
Apparently the baby cut a tooth this week. How about that? And the lad had fivecount’emFIVE timeouts yesterday. He was yelling at Matthew. Last week he pushed Billy. But yesterday he was really good with Billy. And this morning? Contrite, well-behaved, introspective even.
Uhh, yeah.
You know, for all the scampering and the holiday magic and the tickling and the being lifted waaaaay up high till you’re all the way at the ceiling and the ice cream and the circuses and stuff….
Hmm. I was gonna say “for all that, being a kid sucks.” But that list kind of convinced me that it’s not so bad. I, for one, could really use a circus right about now.
Oh lordy, if you’re linking from Finslippy, just…just go back. Nothing to see here. Coming soon: more Tales of the Sump Pump.
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5 comments:
Oh, good. I like the sump pump stories. Of course, I might think differently if I actually had to use one... No below-ground basement here. Life on a slab in rural France.
Bill, are you getting four gazillion hits from Finslippy? I am, and it's Freaking Me Out. I simply don't have enough ice cream for everyone.
What? I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER ALL THIS TRAFFIC.
I came from Finslippy, and I'm not leaving. Well, I'm coming back, anyway.
Please do. I'll leave out the good folding chairs.
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