The Lumberjack's Wife

When I picked Handsome Dude up at the bus stop on Tuesday, he was nothing but smiles.  He informed me immediately that he was a good listener, had lots and lots of best friends, and he sat right by his awesome bus driver, Jeff’s, back, which is apparently the coolest spot in the whole world.  And Jeff is ALSO his best friend.  Because, of course he is.  Why not?

Remember his ginormous backpack?

The school sent him home with a new one and asked if he could bring that one instead.  Take that as you will.

Oh!  I just heard a rabbit scream.  Yes.  I live in the middle of nowhere with scores of rabbits.  Don’t you?

Did you know that rabbits scream?  It’s true.  And it’s disturbing.  It’s kind of rare, but it happens. Think of the most horrid and atrocious sound you have ever heard.  A sound that creeps you out and gives you the peepee shivers.

Go ahead.  Think about it.  I’ll wait . . .

Ok.  I guarantee you that a rabbit screaming is ten times worse.  Rabbits can be disturbing.  The mamas rip out their hair to make the nests for the babies.  We didn’t know this at first and my girls were bawling:

“Mom!  Norma Jean Riley’s hair is missing and she is bleeding!”

Yes.  Bleeding.  They take the hair-ripping-out activity to the extreme.  Also.  If you, in your ignorance,  leave a buck (ha!  look at me and my knowledgeable self!)  in with the doe after you breed it and let it lodge there until the babies are born, the buck just might feast on his babies.

Ask me how I know.

Rabbits.

Not for the faint of heart.  Or for the girl who wonders how the got stuck in Ruralville and just wants to get a latte and go shopping.

But I digress.

Awana started up for the kids last night.  This was the first year that all FOUR of the kids will be going.

Let us stop and do a happy dance.

Little Dude was extremely excited, announcing to all peoples he would meet that he was going to “cubbies.”  (Cubbies is the Awana program for his age)

Handsome Dude was in Cubbies all last year and would oft sing the Cubbies song.  It starts off, “We are Awana Cubbies, we’re happy all day long . . . ” And Handsome Dude, the seasoned Cubbie that he is, was being all big-brother-ish to Little Dude while we were getting ready to go and shouted:

“Come on, Cokey!  Let’s go to Awana Cubbies, where we’re happy all day long!”

Cute.  And Cokey is his name for Little Dude.  No.  We did not name our son Cokey  Maliblahblah.  Who do you think we are?  Weird, unsocialized homeschoolers who moved out to the middle of nowhere to live with rabbits and deer and turkeys?

Alright.  I have almost had enough coffee in my system to greet the day.  Today we will be starting Latin.  Because, why not?

Oh!  And I must pack for camping.  Does this surprise you?

No.  No it does not.

Later, dudes.

Handsome Dude started preschool today.  There is one he can go to here in one of the smaller towns, so we decided to take that opportunity.

The boys says things like: “It makes me sausage, you know?” So.  We figured he might need a little extra push in life.

I kid!  I jest!

I feel very stretched keeping up with a 2nd grader and a 3rd grader and wasn’t sure I could give Handsome Dude the attention he might need to get him ready for kindergarten next year, so, its off to preschool for him.

I drove him in this morning, and we were a bit early, so I decided to stop at the store.

HD (short for Handsome Dude . . . keep up!):  Ok.  But we WEALLY need to hurry.  My girl will be waiting for me.

His girl would be his teacher.  And that’s why I love him.

Could we find a bigger backpack for him?  I ask you?

He was so excited.

HD:  Mom!  Thank you for letting me go somewhere WITHOUT you!

Fantastic.  But right before I left, he started to get all teary-eyed.  He didn’t cry though, but he looked so small and nervous.

My baby!

So, now, I am feeling all sad and sentimental and wondering why I don’t have a pause button in life.

Therefore, since I am feeling all sad, we are going to make a list about all the things we (and when I say “we” I , of course, mean you and I because I choose to believe he melts your heart as much as he melts mine) love about Handsome Dude.

1.  He has always had an old man face.

2.  He was my easiest baby.  No joke!

3.  He was the world’s worst toddler.  No joke.

4.  Oh!  What’s that?!  You don’t believe me?  Pray tell,  did your child chase after his sisters with the toilet bowl brush?   I didn’t think so.

5.  Corn on the cob makes him sausage, you know.

6.  He uses his made up word “wee” all the time.  “Mommy, I’m wee hungry.”

7.  He calls a block of cheddar cheese “mac and cheese.”  And once when I was making a grilled cheese sandwich for him, he asked if he could have a “boy cheese sandwich” with lots of mac and cheese.

8.  It takes a lot of coffee and a quick mind to be the mother of this child.

9.  One week, David was working late every night and hadn’t seen the kids.  Handsome Dude wailed to me one morning:

“Mom!  When is dad ever going to kiss my cheek again?”

10.  When he is at preschool, it is REALLY quiet in our house.  And homeschooling is a breeze.

Alright!  It’s time to go pick him up!  Don’t worry.  I have had two cups of coffee, so I am ready to translate all of his intriguing sentences.

Happy Tuesday!

PS-The next time we get a new female rabbit (or a DOE, if you are a super professional rabbit person like me), I am going to name her Scarlett O-HARE-A.

PPS-Ha!  You cannot deny that is funny

PPPS- Too bad I don’t know how to tell if the rabbit is a girl or a boy.

We  had a bit of stress this weekend.  We have this car, you see.  Actually, all menfolk we encounter call it a truck, so I have no idea what I am driving.  I think I would call it an SUV.  But whatever.  It is a Ford Excursion.

ANYWAYS, our car/truck has this annoying habit of randomly thinking someone is trying to steal it and will go into “theft mode.”

Theft mode is,basically, complete lock down.

 The car/truck simply won’t start.  There is nothing you can do.

So, on Saturday, we go to the gas station.  Everyone and their mothers have decided to fuel up at this particular station.. We spent all of our money, plus our kids’ college funds, on filling up our thirsty beast of a rig, and David goes to start the car/truck.

The car/truck, thinking it is soooo smart, feels that David is a felon and goes immediately into theft mode.  And the best part is that we are towing a utility trailer, therefore, we are blocking the pump behind us.  Which, I am sure, was very much appreciated by all the fellow gas-filler-uppers, as well as their mothers.

You may ask: “Taylor!  Why were you towing a utility trailer?!”

Silly readers.  Have you met my husband?  We are off to see a guy about some rabbit feed.  And, apparently, we will now be buying it in bulk.

David is literally sweating.  If it was me driving all by myself, I would have been crying and wailing and sobbing.  But since David is there, I feel no fear.  Instead, I just sit in the passenger seat, checking Facebook on my phone, and cracking jokes.

“Having a little trouble there?”

“Need me to take a look under the hood?”

Fun Fact:  I can’t even open the hood.

Finally, he gets it started.  I mention that we should probably go to the Ford dealer and have them check out the sitch.

100 (meaningless) points to anyone who remembers what “sitch” is. 

David disagrees, and off we go to see the rabbit feed guy.  And after we purchased our 28 tons of rabbit feed, guess what?

Our car/truck wouldn’t start.

I win!

So, David had to call his brother Alex to come and tow us to the Ford dealer.  Once my dad heard of our plans he said, and I quote:

“I am coming to get you.  I do not want my grandchildren riding around in a towed vehicle.”

And I was like, “Dad, have you heard about my life?”

Just kidding.  Let’s let him think his grandchildren have never ridden in a towed vehicle, shall we?

So, we got to go to my parents’ house and David went to the Ford dealer, where the car/truck started up just fine and David was charged many dollars to hear that our car/truck was fine and he was a big, fat liar.  Lame.

Let’s move on!

Next, we went on the boat.  Don’t be too impressed. We like to call it “the boat,” almost as if we had some sort of ownership in it.  But, no.  It is David’s sister’s boat.  We don’t have a boat.

But we do have 28 tons of rabbit feed in a car/truck that always thinks we are stealing it.  Does that impress you?

David pleads with me to join him on the tube.

This is me hoping to not get my hair wet.

And . . .

this is me holding onto the tube with a Vulcan Death Grip to ensure my hair not getting wet.  And I don’t even know what a Vulcan is, nor if it has a death grip.  But it sounds appropriate, does it not?

Sunday.

On Sunday, we went to a meeting at church.  And you will never BELIEVE what happened.

The car/truck thought we were trying to steal it again.

Oh, my lands, it is annoying.  I wish I could have knocked on Mr. Ford Dealer Repairman’s Door and given him a piece of my mind.

But, anyways, we made it to the meeting and yada yada yada, here is the whole point of me telling you about that:

We had to take our lovely children with us.

So, at one point during the meeting, the leader is talking and Handsome Dude whisper/shouts:

“Mom!  I have to go POOOOOOOP!”

You knew I was going to talk about bathroom stuff, didn’t you, dear readers?  We all know that is why you come here.  You just can’t survive if I don’t tell you the latest.

As luck would have it, the bathroom is right near where the leader is speaking.

So.  My Handsome Dude is in the bathroom and I hear this very loud moaning.

David shoots me a look of death from across the room.

You know this look, don’t you, dear readers?  The “do something about YOUR poo-poo-moaning kid NOW!” look?

So, I open the door and tell him to poop quieter.

“MOM!  I CAN’T!  IT’S THE OWIE KIND OF POOPIE!”

And he continued to moan and groan for dear life in that bathroom for all the world to hear. The leader, who could hear all of this, just kept on going and didn’t embarass me or nothing.

Bless her heart.

***

This past weekend marked the 10th Anniversary of September 11.  I just wanted to say thank you to all the men, women, and families who sacrifice so much to keep our country safe.

My friend, Erin, who I have met through blogging, is getting ready to say goodbye to her husband for several months.  He is leaving to serve our country overseas.  They have two young children.

If you have an extra moment, please stop by Erin’s blog (I know you will love it!) and offer her some encouragement and thanks.  She’s a gem.  Thank you!

I am supposed to be doing some lesson planning for the classes I am teaching on Monday for our new homeschooling co-op.

Instead, I am sitting here nursing my caffeine addiction trying to recover from the field trip I just took my kids on.

This is my first year in this co-op.  I know not one, single person.  I am sure I am going to impress the co-op peoples’ socks off, seeing as how I am using my planning time to blog.

We went on a field trip today to an old mission/church.  Now, this church is about 90 minutes away from my house.  About halfway there, I have to get on THE freeway.

Yes.  There is only ONE freeway in our whole section of the universe.  Everyone just calls it THE freeway.  I was born in California and we would oft go visit our relations from that area and, oh my stars, how do those people live with all of those different freeways?

“Yeah.  You’re gonna take the 5 to the 14 and then catch the 220 till you get to the 7 and then merge onto the 86 before meeting up with the 395.”

Makes me need more coffee.  No!  Here in these parts, we just say THE freeway.  And we like it that way.

So.  I get on THE freeway and it takes me a minute but I realize I am going the wrong way.  I am going west, when, alas, I need to be going east.  Of course.  There is just ONE freeway and I get it wrong.  I cannot wait to tell David.  It’s going to make his night.  David was born into this world with a GPS Navigator pre-installed in his brain.

What was I trying to talk about?  Oh!  The field trip.

(Ask me how my co-op lesson planning is going.)

So.  We are going the right way and it is a L-O-N-G ride and I got to thinking about that whole scenario with my dad and the flowers and the ladies apparently inquiring of his relationship status and I got to laughing.

Why?  Because it is humorous and it reminded me of a story about Auntie Datenut.  Auntie Datenut is my mom’s sister and she came to stay with my parents for Christmas one year.  At one point, we were all going to watch a movie when my mom did what she does every night and said:

“Grant!  Can you pop some popcorn?”

And my dad always looks so bewildered and confused, almost as if he did not know one could pop corn, and he scratches his head and says:

“Anything else, dear?”

But the best part of this is that my dad, for my entire life, always wears a robe at night.  Always.  Yet he never has the tie thing.  So, he walks around every night, holding his robe closed.

Every.

Single.

Night.

Because who needs the tie that comes conveniently looped in the robe?

So, there he went, up the stairs, holding his robe, to make his wife the popped corn.  And Auntie Datenut looked at my mom and I and said,

“I’m sorry.  But Grant is just a handsome guy!  I’ve always thought so!”

I nearly died a thousand deaths.

Field Trip!  Focus, Taylor!

So, I get to the field trip after driving many miles EAST on THE freeway.  And it was fine and lovely and informative.

Since I am 30 now and all, I marched right over to the guy who gave the presentation and told him that he did a great job and I really liked it.

If I was in my 20’s, I would have done no such thing.

Also:  Since I have turned 30, my arms have grown a new layer of fat that jiggles whenever I stir something vigorously.

But that is neither here nor there.

The people who built the old mission took HUCKLEBERRIES and squished them to make a dye and colored the ceiling with it.

You don’t squish huckleberries!  My inlaws would be aghast.

Speaking of huckleberries, we only harvested about 6 cups this year.  David and I decided to be all martyr-ish and offer our bounty to David’s grandma who makes huckleberry pie for the holidays.

It’s what my in-laws live for.

So, I tell David’s sister, Lisa, that we have some berries for Grandma.

Her response?

“Oh.  That’s ok.  I have at least 3 gallons from previous years that I save in case of emergencies.”

3 gallons?  Emergencies?  She’s a hoarder!

This is their passion, my inlaws.  Their passion for the huckleberries.

This post was really scattered.  Surprisingly, I have not gotten anywhere with my lesson planning.

Off I go!

A Thursday Night List

1.  I have no idea how to write a blog.  I am in over my head.  I mean, of course I can write nonsense.  But I really don’t get all that other stuff like code and widget and plugin and rss and whatnot.

2.  Explosive diarrhea can and will disrupt school.  Several times.

3.  Daisy Mae still writes 9 like this: P

4.  Granola is delicious. (Thanks Jason and Amy)

5.  My blog wasn’t updating in Google Reader.  Apparently my posts are too large.  Lame.  Do you know what Google Reader is?  Do you?  Hmm?

6.  Not to tootle my own horn or anything, but Sister Meagan, who prides herself on being the most knowledgeable in our family regarding The Internets, had no clue what a Google Reader is.

7.  I got all handsome on filling her in.  Consider her informed.

8.  The girls talked me into watching Star Wars with them last night for the first time in my life.  All I know about Star Wars is that I don’t want to see it.  And there is a golden guy and a guy that looks like a Shop Vac.

9.  I lasted about 3.7 seconds and went back to trying to fix my Google Reader.

10.  If I mention Google Reader again, my dad, who I am assuming is reading this post, is going to start talking to himself and close his computer with authority.  Because he is my dad and he can.

“What IS this Google-ty Reader Mumbo Jumbo she is talking about?”

11.  Handsome Dude is starting preschool next week.  This is weird, because he is still a newborn.

12.  I enjoyed your theories as to why the ladies gave my dad flowers.

Dear Dad,

The general consensus is this:  People feel like the ladies at the restaurant were flirting with you.  And the reason they asked you to give the flowers to, and I quote, “your lovely wife” is because they wanted to see if you were already taken.

Try not to get too conceited or anything,

Taylor

13.  My dad totally thwarted the ladies’ plan.  He just smiled, took the flowers and said,

“Thanks!  But she’s my daughter!” and walked away.

So bummer for them.  They were out some flowers and did not even find out if my dad was available, the heartbreaker that he is.

13.  Granola is delicious.  But it has a lot of calories.  Such a shame.

14.  Apparently my blog gets mad if I center posts.  This was part of my . . . wait for it . . . Google Reader problem.

15.  Do you think I can mention Google Reader more?  Do you think anyone is still reading this?

16.  I am really quite dumb when it comes to this stuff.

Don’t lose heart!

I have placed a hold at the library for the book WordPress for Dummies.  I am going to wow you all soon.  Just you wait.

17.  I wonder if they make a book called Google Reader for Dummies.

18.  That’s right.  I mentioned it again.

19.  Both girls have already cried this week during school.  Take that as you will.

20.  Thank you to everyone on Facebook who helped me with my GOOGLE READER issues.  You guys are all the bees knees.

21.  A snake ran by my toes today.  I was just trying to get the mail.

22.  Rebecca D posted a trippy story about me.  But, and don’t be too surprised, I am having trouble getting the link to work.

So.  You are going to have to copy and paste this link:

http://highmaintenanceaspirations.blogspot.com/2011/09/this-is-one-strange-cyber-world.html

Before you read it, I must assure you it is just an uber strange coincidence and don’t you go thinking I’m all that AND a bag of chips. You should go say hi to her.  I do not know her in real life.  But I still think you should say hi.  She was the first person to inspire the COW, which is supposed to be the Comment of the Week.  And I am really bad about updating that.  As you are all aware.

23.  Attention All Jam-Makers:  Share your thoughts on pectin.  Does it matter if you use liquid or powdered?  Please advise.

24.  I have 2 number 13’s.  That’s a shame.  Now I look ignorant.

25.  Do you know how much work it would take to go back and re-number them?  Not gonna do it.

26.  I really hope people can see this post.

27.  From their Google Readers.

28.  I am growing my bangs out.

29.  Goodnight!

PS-In all seriousness, if you are reading this in Google Reader, please let me know so I can jump for joy that my posts are making it through.  Thanks!

This post is a test.  My blog and Feedburner are having a lover’s spat.  If you are in Google Reader and you can see this post, my problem is fixed and all is right with the world again!  If you are a Google Reader person and aren’t reading this post, bummer.  And you will never even know.  If you do subscribe in Google Reader, you might want to find a different way to read this blog.  Because I am having issues.

Oh!  And if you missed it, here is the post Google Reader never showed you

It makes me sausage, you know?

Attention Dad:  I know this post makes no sense to you.  It’s ok.  None of it makes sense to me either.

So much has happened!  Where shall I begin?

A list!  Yes!

A list is always a great idea!

1.  We started school today, and I was ready for it , baby.  I prepared a daily schedule, a chore schedule, an everything else schedule, and numerous meals are stocked in the freezer.  Nothing could shake me. NOTHING.

Or so I thought.

Cue Handsome Dude and his explosive diarrhea.  And yes, I am talking about diarrhea again, because that is why you come here.  To read all about the activities of the bowels of my offspring, of course.

My poor boy.  He had issues.  It tended to be a bit distracting, but overall, we had a successful day.

2.  I helped my husband build a rabbit hutch, oh yes, I did.  And this time, I even used tools and the like.

Oh, yes.

I did.

Tools like . . . a SawZall.  You know what it does?  It SAWS ALL.  Hence the name.

You just jab it somewhere and saw away.  Brilliant.

And I don’t know if I spelled SawZall correctly, but we are going to go with it.

It was a good bonding experience for us, my husband and I.

David:  Could you go into the shop and find the square?

Me:  You assume I know what a square is.

David: *sigh*

So, off he goes and he comes back with something that looks like a triangle.

(source)

Because I would have figured that out.

What is wrong with people?  Is the whole world against me?

3.  Yes.  I am the teacher of my children.  Why do you ask?

4.  Handsome Dude at dinner tonight:

HD (short for Handsome Dude . . . keep up, people!):  Mom!  I not want that corn on my plate.

Me:  You don’t want corn on the cob?

HD:  No.  It is wrong for my teeth.  It doesn’t work out.

Me:  Ok.

HD:  It has problems.

Me:  Ok.

HD:  It makes me sausage, you know?

Say, what?

5.  Yes.  I am the teacher of my children.  Why do you ask?

6.  We went camping this weekend.  It was the turbo edition with two extra days thrown in for good measure, because apparently, camping is something we just can’t get enough of.

And now, for kicks and grins, I shall share with you some pictures of camping.  Because if I had to go, you have to hear about it.

Handsome Dude was given a pack of bubble tape.

And he immediately placed it in his back pocket.

Cousins!

That’s Little Dude on the right, next to my two nieces.

Yes.  They are cute.  We are all aware.

Jason and Amy came.  Do you remember them?  Sure you do.

Jason is the Lumberjack’s youngest younger brother.  Amy is his beloved.  Keep up!

They brought with them the idea to do a special breakfast called:

Eggie in a Baggie

or something cool like that.

And I shall tell you all how to do it so you can wow everyone at your next camping trip.  That is, if you are so fortunate to go camping.

You take a bunch of ziplock baggies and have people write their names on them.

Then you set up a bunch of stuff.  You know, like a bowl of eggs (cracked, of course.  please try to focus) and tons of different toppings like cheese, bacon, tomatoes, bell pepper, spinach and so on.

People add whatever they wish to the bag and you place the bag in boiling water for 5 minutes or so and voila!

Omelets.  Or Eggies in a Baggies, as Jason and Amy would say.  And they are cool, so I would listen to them.

On one of the days, we went on a hike to a mountain lake.  Here is a group shot:

I would tell you everyone’s name, but we all know you would just skim over it, so let’s move on.

My kids are quite the FisherPeoples.

Sweet Pea:

Handsome Dude:

Daisy Mae

 Daisy Mae caught the first fish of the day.  The menfolk thought it would be uber tasty to bring something that does something fantastic and cook fish in the middle of nowhere.  So, Daisy Mae’s fish was first for the feast.

And they made her take the first bite.

Could we find larger bobby pins for her?  I ask you?

Don’t worry.  I packed a sandwich.

I’m the smartest.

Handsome Dude also caught a fish.

But none of the brave people (aka: all my inlaws) were available to help.

So my mom had to help.

Yeah.  There is a slight chance she might get perturbed at me, seeing as how her face looks so darn hilarious, but it must be shown.

For that just shows you, dear readers why I am the way that I am.

And why Daisy Mae looks like this when it is time to feast on fish.

Luckily, Jason, one of my crazy inlaws came to the rescue, him being the rockstar that he clearly is.

Holla, Jason!

Enough about fishing.  I don’t even like fishing.

Let us discuss the parachute.  Do you remember the parachute?

Here is the view of our camp from the road:

Do you see it?  Do you see it?

Camping Stranger Passerby:  Hey!  Are you the Parachute People?

Me:  Yes.  Yes, we are.

Camping Stranger Passerby:  You were here last year!  Hi!

Fantastic.  We are known as The Parachute People.

Oh!  And I just had to take this picture:

Because, duh.

And lastly, but not leastly, at one point my dad and I, along with Handsome Dude had to go to town.

The reason is not important.  Just go with it.

We were sitting in a restaurant, and my dad walked over to get a soda pop.  Two ladies stopped him and gave him some flowers to give to, and I quote, “his lovely wife.”

He took them and said, “Thanks!  But she’s my daughter!”

And, so, I got flowers from two ladies at a restaurant who thought I was my dad’s wife.

And I had camping hair.

And I am not sure how to take it, but I figured it was worth sharing.

Here is a pic of us back at camp with the flowers, because I know you want to snicker at us.

It was a trippy experience overall.

Alright!  I’m done!  Are you excited?

100 (meaningless) points to anyone who actually read and followed, that whole post.

Goodbye!

Some of you have noticed that some of my pictures have been blurry as of late.  I know.  It was annoying me, too.  But you assume I have photography skills (or skillz, whichever you prefer) and would understand how to fix such things.

Alas.  I don’t.

The blurry pictures were from my phone and it was really irking me because my phone is brand-spanking new.

Here is an example from what would have been a delightful picture of my boys thinking they were factual train conductors at the amusement park:

See?  Irksome.

So, I was at the amusement park with my friend Rita!, and taking lousy pictures, when I had finally “had it” with my picture quality.  I take my shirt and begin to rub the back of the phone where the lens lives.

Then I notice something amiss.  Then I felt like my dad:

because I realized I had never taken off the brand-spanking-new-camera-protective-clear stickers.

So.  Once I figured that one out, I got a shot of my boys thinking they were factual helicopter pilots:

Life is hard for me.

I am uber tired today.  I stayed up till almost 1am last night.  Because I have no intelligence.

It’s that darn show, Lost.  It’s killing me!  Killing me, I tell you!  Poor David.  He keeps falling asleep at like minute 11 of the first episode of the night.  I get hooked and watch at least 2 episodes and then the next night, David acts all crazy and like he is hallucinating.

David: What!  I thought he was dead?

Me:  He is!  This is from the past!

David: Wait!  Where did she come from?

Me:  She’s an other!

David:  What?  They knew each other?

Me:  This is from the future!  Keep up!

David: Huh?  Where are they now?

And I just tell him to hush up while I shove popcorn into my mouth with my eyes popping out of my head.

Lost episodes on DVD.

Not for the faint of heart.

So.  I am tired today.  This is a bad plan because I have 4.2 millions things to do.  Because, and this will knock your socks off, we are going C-A-M-P-I-N-G.

Oh, yes.  We are.  And this is camping on steroids.  Because it is 2 extra days of camping fun.

And I use the term “fun” quite loosely.

Quite.

You would not BELIEVE the checklist I had to make just to remember all the clothes required for all 6 of us.  Took me 2 hours to locate all the items needed.

We have a dresser downstairs completely devoted to camping clothes.

Camping clothes are jeans with holes in them and shirts with stains that should not be worn in public.

And for us, public means in our living room.

I kid!  I jest!

Anyways, the girls have been in charge of putting all the downstairs laundry away for some time now.  They have always done a fine job at their chores, so I trusted all was well with the laundry sitch.

Sitch is how cool people, such as myself, abbreviate “situation.”  Feel free to steal it, as it is sure to impress.

Folks.  All was not well with the laundry sitch.

The camping drawer overfloweth with clothes that were in mint condition.  Nice, clean shorts the boys could have used all summer long.  (And by all summer long, I mean the last 2 weeks, because, we don’t really get a “summer” per say).

I was perturbed.

Me:  Why are all these clothes stuffed in here?

Sweet Pea:  Because I didn’t feel like putting them away where they belonged.

Well.  At least she’s truthful.

Alright!  I must pack!

I am camping today through Monday.

Please.

Try to contain your understandable jealousy.