It is the “witching” hour – that time right before dinner when toddlers seem barely hanging on to anything resembling composure and moms are similarly struggling. Mary is, as usual, bewitched. I just need her to hang on for another half hour and then I’ll happily put her to bed.
Relief! She has discovered the muffin tins, and the madeleine tin and – oh, no, I didn’t realize she has one of my Polish Pottery dishes (OK, rescued that one) – and she has laid them out on the floor and is pretending they are stepping stones. She skips gleefully from one to the next, blissfully distracted from all her end-of-the-day stresses.
Disaster! Helpful older sisters and Neighbor Girl (who is staying for dinner) decide that the dishes are not for playing and take them from her.
Thankfully, they returned them immediately when I
yelled at them mentioned that I was aware of her activity (I’m sitting ten feet away), and she recovered her good mood.
Nobody noticed her five minutes ago when she took the canister of Carnation Instant Breakfast, ripped off the lid with her teeth, and up-ended the entire thing on the counter and floor. Of course not.
Bill is in an airport in Kuwait waiting for a flight to his final destination. He might be there a while, and he has nothing better to do but read my blog and worry about me. I’m desperately trying to come up with something amusing to write to ease his worries somewhat. I’ve got nothing, although Neighbor Girl, when told he was in Kuwait, asked if it was an “exotic” country. Since her definition of “exotic” did not include “hotter’n an oven” or “sandstorms” I told her no. If you’ve read anything funny recently, feel free to include a link in the combox. We could use a good laugh.