I was woke up this morning by a very obviously upset Manly Man yelling, "What did you do?' I got up and found that Baby Monkey's face, neck, and shoulder were covered in blue ink. He had "bit" an ink cartridge during the night. Now tell me why you would get up in the middle of the night, take a pen apart, and bite the ink cartridge? WHY?WHY?WHY?WHY?
Yesterday, I found the giant sheet of bubble wrap in the bathtub. It was wet. Someone had taken a bath with it. Sister#2 says this makes sense as they may have been using it as a floatation devise. I asked her to raise them. She declined.
Later, my mother calls. She is in a big box store with Middle Monkey and one of the girl cousins. I think this is odd as it is the middle of the day. Apparently, she went to eat lunch with the two of them at school and somehow the little creatures talked her into taking them with her when she left. My mother, the woman who never fell for anything and never, I mean never ever, allowed us to miss school unless we were on our death bead, this woman signed those kids out of school early. Did hell freeze over?
Now I have a confession. I have three pairs of fuzzy socks. I love my fuzzy socks. I hate it when my feet are cold. I have been known to wear these fuzzy socks with gardening clogs while taking my boys to school. You should see how fast they can get out of the truck when I do. If socks are going to be outlawed, I am going to become a fuzzy sock wearing criminal. You won't take me alive. I will die with my socks on. There are three days left in the sock poll. So far Ourfriendben is losing quite badly. You could give him and hand and leave me to my life of crime or you could make an honest woman out of me and save the fuzzy socks.
When a gardener collects vintage postcards
16 hours ago