will you please, please won't you be my aunties

Okay, Tim's room had to be cleaned. The closet was tumbled and strange.  There were many issues. This guy loved bouncing on the bed, thinking up nefarious ideas.

Oh my gosh, it was an ordeal. We did this room over last June.

Why am I whining now, six months later because it requires attention again?

Sigh, summoning patience and less cussing.

This child fell asleep after a fine lunch of cheesy potatoes and pickles.

They possibly could be related.  I have no idea what he ate, but the result is the same.

Ooops, here she is with her aunties after she slept on the couch a while.

It's been an intense week, not relaxing.  I will not lie about that.

It was a wonderful Christmas, and 2012 is looking fine.

Plus in the morning we get to BUILD BEARS!!!

You never saw kids hop into bed so quietly and without any of the usual squirreling out as when they heard we were waking them up to BUILD BEARS!!!  (Insert hyper ventilation.)

Okay, and this is a sad story because I want people to feel sorry for me.

I gave the Sam a bath. I scrubbed her huge body with cherry blossom suds, and bit of coconut too. We rinsed and rinsed, and rinsed.

Then she went outside, and I was wet, and wearing shorts, so  I  was very, very cold, and  I trusted her because I was weak.

Yeah, I'm a fool.

Out there in our frozen, and yet snow-less yard, she found some hideous grit to roll in.

(Insert screaming here, my heart was screaming, even though I said nothing.)

We had a lovely second bath, and I don't care if Sam gets to a toilet until noon tomorrow. She's exhausted any skimpy sympathy I might have had.

The dog is fluffy and sweet, smells like tulips, as John once pointed out on his own dog, scrubbed down by myself.

Yeah, well. Whatever.

Tomorrow is Friday, and is Thursday ever over.

I came back and took out the ever, then returned and left it.

Whee.

love, Val