“Mommy!” Rachel called out at 7:30 this morning, “It’s not dark outside anymore! It’s light out!”
“I know,” I groaned, “Go ahead and get out of bed.”
We met in the living room for a cuddle on the couch. I had been up since five with Miriam and had been hoping to get back to sleep.
At least Rachel seemed to be in a good mood. We happily chatted about this and that for a few minutes until I suggested that we get some breakfast going.
“Can I have some candy for breakfast?” asked Rachel.
“Absolutely not,” I answered. “How about some cereal?”
That ended our good day. Rachel threw a fit and has decided that she can and will punish me for my lack of judgment for the rest of the day (and perhaps her life) so I have officially started counting down the days until she is eighteen and can have candy for breakfast if she wants to.
Of course by then she’ll probably be so conscious of her weight and/or complexion and/or health that she won’t want candy for breakfast and will completely understand why I deprived her of the experience today.
My mood soured, I decided to go wash the dishes that I hadn’t washed the night before. Andrew walked in while I was fighting with the whisk. He wisely decided to compliment my mood with his and in a highly optimistic, happy mood—it’s almost annoying—he gave me a hug. One of the whisky things sproinged off the whisk.
“Argh!” I grumbled, “That’s so grumbly annoying. Grumble this, grumble that. Can’t even find a grumbly whisk that stays the grumble together.”
“It makes it easy to clean,” he suggested with a smile, “Maybe it’s a feature.”
I’ve got to hand it to the boy—he always knows how to make me smile. He’s just too goofy.
Oh, and he changed two massive poopy diapers this morning.
(No wonder Miriam couldn’t sleep! I took her to the potty and she did a ton and then when she got up with Andrew she filled her diaper and then he put her down on the couch and she filled it again. I wouldn’t wonder if she sleeps all through church—and am kind of wishing that I was a baby so that I could sleep all through church, too).
I think I’ll keep him.