Friday, December 18, 2009

Nothing Like Routines

Bree and Carly are doing what they are always doing at 7:30 on a non-school morning.

Carly is watching Dinosaur Train and trying to get away with sucking her thumb. She's grouchy and whiny because she's watching shows first thing in the morning - I don't know WHAT it is with shows in the early morning. You'd think it would make her happy, but it does not. Totally not worth it.

Bree has pulled all the laundry out of the basket and all the books off the hallway bookshelf. She's fully accessorized with several necklaces and a princess crown and has found Carly's butterfly-shaped bath bombs and she's saying "oooooh" in a high squeaky voice. It's really cute, even though the hallway is a huge mess.

I'm wishing I had a coffee maker.
Paul is at work.

Oh yeah! And our garbage disposal isn't working. Paul decided that he would fix it which involved shaking it and pushing it back up through the sink. At first it wouldn't move and he was all, "That's the problem, it's STUCK" and I was all, "That's the sealant, I don't think you should push it up" and he was all, "No, no, no, what are you talking about" and then he pushed it out of the sink and all the sealant was peeling off and now when we run the dishwasher the sink leaks all over the stuff we have stored under the sink. Nice. So we're going to have a plumber out here sometime today hopefully in between the time we're babysitting and then going (NOT running, just going) to the Post Office to mail off the last of the gifties.

Speaking of the Post Office, if anyone reading this ever wants to send us anything while we're here in Baton Rouge, please please please use UPS or FedEx. Our mailman is horrible. We got a package a couple of days ago and he threw it, not dropped, not placed...I mean he walked 3/4 of the way to our porch and tossed the package. It bounced off the table and landed in the middle of the porch. Thankfully it was delicious English muffins and not picture frames or something. Again, I came out of the house and asked him WHY he had to THROW our stuff and he leaned away from his cell phone to give me one of those big fake smiles (also called a something-eating grin) and asked me what I wanted to be done about it. I really wanted to just yell at him for a while and tell him to maybe do his job instead of being a lazy loser, but Bree had just attempted to climb from the sofa to the ironing board and saving my child from bodily harm was more important than talking to someone who obviously does not care. Maybe he's related to the people who built our house, haha!

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