*I had the kids make their Christmas lists the other day, and DynaGirl asked for her own room. I’ve told her before that this is not going to happen as long as we live in this house (3 bedrooms, 4 kids, 1 teenage boy, 3 girls), but she spent most of Veteran’s Day watching HGTV and she’s convinced she can convert the closet into a bedroom for herself. Apparently she’s mistaken their 2′x5′ closet for one of more Narnian proportions. I’m afraid this Christmas will join puppy, pony and baby brother on the list of Santa FAILS.
*The other day I spent more time than I would care to admit searching for a stray sock—a quest that took me, among other places, under furniture, between couch cushions, into sleeves of shirts already hanging in closets, and inside the newspaper recycling bin (no stone unturned, people). Just when I had decided to give up (or at least when I had told myself I’d decided to give up), I felt something strange on the back of my knee. I reached up my pant leg only to discover the missing sock had been there the whole time. Only I’m not entirely convinced it had been there the whole time. That was at least the second time I had worn that particular pair of pants since they’d last been laundered (what, you wash your jeans after every wear?) and the sock had obviously been freshly laundered and not in the same load as the pants (I have a strict laundry sorting regimen that must be adhered to at all times). Also, it wasn’t just my sock I found up my pant leg, but one of BigHugs’ as well, which was an entirely different color from both the missing sock and the pants. Even if by the wildest stretch of the imagination I somehow managed to launder items from three different laundry families in the same load, would I really be able to walk around on 2-3 separate occasions with these two separate pieces of foot coverings stowed away in my pant leg without even noticing? Would I? Would I?? Do you ever get the feeling your life is one long-running episode of Punk’d?
*Last night we played one of those Cranium games. One round had DynaGirl guiding Chuck’s hand to draw a particular something, which was a little awkward considering Chuck is left-handed while DynaGirl is right-handed. Chuck and BigHugs (who were on DynaGirl’s team) had to guess what it was.
Chuck: A man!
BigHugs: A guy!
Chuck: A gingerbread man!
BigHugs: A gingerbread man!
Chuck: Baby Jesus!
They were wrong. They ran out of time.
Later, BigHugs said, “Baby Jesus, Dad? Really?”