We are still unearthing toys. They're stashed everywhere—in boxes of books, in boxes of dishes, in boxes of books, in boxes of clothes, in boxes of books...and, well, we mostly brought books. And toys. But mostly books. "The tools of my trade," Andrew calls them. "You wouldn't ask a carpenter to work without his tools," he tells me. I
blame Patrick Mason
for teaching Andrew this argument. On the one hand this has made unpacking a snap. On the other hand all our bookcases are full and we still have a few boxes of books left. *sigh*
Fortunately, I was a librarian in a former life (you know, the one before I had kids) and I can keep books on the shelf. The toys, though, are another story. They were packed everywhere and now they just are
everywhere. I'm working on it (but organization is not my strong suit, especially with a bunch of littles running around).
Today I pulled out a box to unpack and found that it was mostly full of too-small clothes and toys, which was perfect. I worked on it for a minute before sitting down to compose an email to Rachel's teacher (she had a difficult day at school yesterday (Rachel, that is...not the teacher (though she may have had a difficult day, too...I don't know))) and I left the box on the living room floor beside Benjamin who, for once in his life, was kicking around happily.
Miriam noticed some toys inside the box—toys that had been "missing" for several weeks now—and she excitedly asked if she could get them out. I told her that she could and went on typing my email. I looked over my shoulder after a few minutes and saw this:
|Uhhhhh...guys...a little help here? Anyone? Bueller?|