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Fresh air: Enjoy it while it lasts.
Nov. 23rd, 2003 08:04 pmToday:
Abbey: Hey, Dad! Do you want to play Sneaky Fox?
Me: How do you play that?
Abbey: Well, I'm the sneaky fox. I close my eyes and count to 20 while you hide, and then I have to find you and catch you. And if I catch you, then you're the sneaky fox.
Me: So it's just like Hide and Seek.
Abbey: Well, yeah. But it's...um...it's... [long pause] Okay, I'm counting. Hide.
I can be so mean sometimes.
The yard apes have been unholy hand grenades today. Both received time-outs this evening within two minutes of each other: Nik for a Pacino-esque temper tantrum that involved the flinging of full dinner plates and small furniture, and Abbey for fetching Grandma's carved wooden box with a velveteen lining and filling it with tap water. The one saving grace was that the weather was nice enough for us all to go outside and play the most cutthroat game of Mother May I that you've ever seen in your life, at least until the grunts found the gulley puddle by the road and went fishing for dinner. The nice thing about playing outside with the kids is that it wear the little ones out; unfortunately, that meant that Nik was asleep by 6 (which is a bad thing; he'll now be up by 4:30 tomorrow morning, mark my words).
I'm sure you're thinking, "Well, if it wears out the kids, what about you, Dad?" Don't ask me that out loud, please. I'm too busy enjoying my narcoleptic knee-drops to answer you.
Abbey: Hey, Dad! Do you want to play Sneaky Fox?
Me: How do you play that?
Abbey: Well, I'm the sneaky fox. I close my eyes and count to 20 while you hide, and then I have to find you and catch you. And if I catch you, then you're the sneaky fox.
Me: So it's just like Hide and Seek.
Abbey: Well, yeah. But it's...um...it's... [long pause] Okay, I'm counting. Hide.
I can be so mean sometimes.
The yard apes have been unholy hand grenades today. Both received time-outs this evening within two minutes of each other: Nik for a Pacino-esque temper tantrum that involved the flinging of full dinner plates and small furniture, and Abbey for fetching Grandma's carved wooden box with a velveteen lining and filling it with tap water. The one saving grace was that the weather was nice enough for us all to go outside and play the most cutthroat game of Mother May I that you've ever seen in your life, at least until the grunts found the gulley puddle by the road and went fishing for dinner. The nice thing about playing outside with the kids is that it wear the little ones out; unfortunately, that meant that Nik was asleep by 6 (which is a bad thing; he'll now be up by 4:30 tomorrow morning, mark my words).
I'm sure you're thinking, "Well, if it wears out the kids, what about you, Dad?" Don't ask me that out loud, please. I'm too busy enjoying my narcoleptic knee-drops to answer you.
