Friday, April 16, 2010

some old notes never posted.

Twins in the kitchen. The door of the freezer is open, Atticus is standing on the floor directing the operation, Jane is standing in a pulled out drawer about halfway up the cabinet.

Atticus: "It's dere, (pointing) wight dere!"
Jane: (stretching on her tip toes) "I can't do it! I can't do it!"

I discovered last night what is my version of hell. To be tied down, completely unable to move and have someone who has brushed their teeth in a while lick my face or breath on my neck. It gives the willies just thinking about it. Kenneth and the kids ganged up on me last night. It was a BAD. IDEA.