Drama

Last night…
GABE: “I hate corn on the cob! You made me corn on the cob! Where is the love we had?!”

This afternoon…
SAM: “Gabe stepped on a big ant, and then two other ants came and carried it away! He smashed my dreams!”

I think we’re gearing up for a simply smashing set of teenage years, don’t you? At this rate, I ought to start transcribing our daily dialogue and selling it to daytime television writers.

I’ve been really hopping the past few days. We rearranged the furniture in the playroom and the kids’ bedroom, in the process weeding out a ton of old clothes, baby gear (why did we still have an infant bathtub in the closet, I ask?), and old toys. Much better now; I feel psychically lighter. Still much work to be done, though. The basement is full to bursting with stuff that can just Go Away. I’ve still got bags of clothes to be donated in my bedroom, mostly because much of it is in excellent condition and my mom wants a peek through the stuff that would fit her.

They’ll be here tomorrow afternoon! My fridge and freezer are also overflowing, but that, at least, was intentional.