Hit me, straight up.
If you had a notion that your pre-schoolers were out gallivanting around at 8 in the morning, in their pjs, would you go out looking for them?More importantly, would you judge me if I didn't?
I'm not saying I didn't, per se, I'm just saying that it's possible that I didn't. I'm per se-ing that it's in the realm of reasonableness that I chose to let sleeping dogs lie, so to speak.
When I finally did get around to hunting them down, they were out in the field. I have never known them to go in the field. Especially in Printhith nightgowns and NBA sweatbands.I was stunned that they had the foresight to put shoes on.
Calvin told Cory, "We went behind the pole barn and the next thing we knew, we were in the orchard! And we had no idea how we got there!"
They seem to be inching ever closer to that Double-Trouble phase.And I dig it.
I hope they seek misadventures together all Summer long.
The rest of our day was bloomy fuschia.And multiple time-outs.
It was weeding Nirvana.(I'll never understand why some do not enjoy weeding a flower bed. Instant gratification!)
And it was a toddler who prefers real electronics/glassware/toilets to toys.
It was heart-shaped Bisquick shortcakes with strawberries and cream.And a cup of juice spilled all over the inside of the refrigerator.
It was mostly happy, with a few thin strands of frazzled thrown in.Oh, and Silas went wading - shoes and all - in the fish pond, but no biggie.
