kid-related, blog-slacking excuses
Remember that time I blogged? I do too, like it was just last Saturday. I actually have a pretty good story, but those boys upstairs are a little naughty.
"Look at us, we're nicely playing with trucks, we're not fighting, nobody is "squishing" anybody else into the floor, Mommy could totally sneak downstairs for two minutes and check her email, we'd be really really good, honest."
HA!
The minute I get down here I can hear stools being shoved around and kids squawking with the dismay of having lost toys to other kids. I hear thumps. I hope it's Tennyson landing on his feet and not his head as he vaults from the couch. I hope it's the couch and not the piano.
Do you want to know how I know the next blog is kind of a funny story? Because the minute I found out about it, Steven says "and you don't have to blog about it."
Stay tuned.
"Look at us, we're nicely playing with trucks, we're not fighting, nobody is "squishing" anybody else into the floor, Mommy could totally sneak downstairs for two minutes and check her email, we'd be really really good, honest."
HA!
The minute I get down here I can hear stools being shoved around and kids squawking with the dismay of having lost toys to other kids. I hear thumps. I hope it's Tennyson landing on his feet and not his head as he vaults from the couch. I hope it's the couch and not the piano.
Do you want to know how I know the next blog is kind of a funny story? Because the minute I found out about it, Steven says "and you don't have to blog about it."
Stay tuned.
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