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Wednesday, June 04, 2014

T-minus 3 days and counting

Today is the last Wednesday of school for the year. Tomorrow is Damon's birthday. Friday is the end of the world as we know it. Just kidding.

Today is Carrie's teacher's retirement party, so she needed cookies for that. Tomorrow is Liam's play that the second grade puts on for the kindergarteners, so he needed a broom for that. Tomorrow is Damon's birthday, so we'll need a cake for that. Tomorrow is their stripe test in karate, and I'm not sure if they need anything for that. Ha!

Damon is still in his pajamas, and so am I. It's 10:30 AM. On his last day of being 3. So far he's been inside and outside, though I'm not sure about upside down. He's been running around upstairs with his corn chex ("yellow squares" if you're speaking Three), fighting epic battles between his early birthday present of Darth Vader ("Dot Vader" if you're still speaking Three) and "Cotton Eye Joe" which is actually the child-safe bottle of Claritin, and getting attacked by the baby gate. Never a dull moment.

Yesterday Carrie was informed by the orthodontist that she'll be starting her braces this summer. Before our OBX trip, actually. That way she'll be used to them by the time school starts, and if all goes well, she'll get them off when she's 13. I can just hear Maudie, "well, myyyyy gosh." My thoughts exactly. She's going to be a cute little bug, for sure!

I've just been informed that, "ta da! Dot Vader is doing the hela poop!" Lest anyone be alarmed, that means Darth Vader is using a colorful bracelet as a hula hoop. Along with one half of one plastic Easter egg and one bug magnifying glass.

And let me just tell you about Aldi. I may have mentioned previously that Damon has been known on occasion to take his harmonica and play songs for the old folks shopping at Aldi. Yesterday, Dot Vader accompanied us, so there wasn't much happening... other  than Dot Vader accosting other people's shopping carts. Fortunately, Aldi shoppers tend to be open to creativity in small people and bantered back about bad guys, etc. Our previous trip involved the Damonater absconding with a box, proceeding to sit in it and "row" himself along the floor. Scrape scrape scrape, "Mama, wait for meeeeeee! MAAAAAMAAAA, I'm coming!" behind me. A particular old lady giggled at him and remarked, "give a boy a ball, or a box, and they're satisfied all day. It's not like that with girls."

She hasn't met my girl.

Anyway, I probably better get busy on all the things I should be accomplishing with only one child home. My days are numbered. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek.

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