The Monkey meets Capt'n Crunch
Pops! The next best thing when the mom has forgotten to bring home Capt'n Crunch to start out a 6 year-old's morning.
Looking good Reed! This look should last for about 1 hour of church.
Look! Two new teeth and they're coming in crooked! But they are still so cute.
"See what mommy planted last spring? It's green and it's alive! Ewww, that could be kind of gross."
Well, I often talk about my boys, but have gotten out of the habit of taking pictures of them and posting them on my blog. You may have started to think I keep them safely stored in a closet and that I bring them out only for special occasions, like dinner, homework, or Star Wars reenactments. No, they really are here, and are to some degree open-range children, moo. Maybe not as open-range as a neighbor boy named Comanche, who every day at about 3:45 will give our front door a fierce pounding and then an earnest pleading for someone to play with. I really feel bad for “only” children and it makes me think, "wow, twins really are a blessing!"
The real reason for the lack of pictures is that after 5 months of being locked inside of our constantly re-circulated heated air, no doubt germ infested, house, plus looking daily at the same marker scribbled on walls, and by evening sporting a Little Einstein glazed-over look in our eyes, pictures just aren't even thought of. So, yesterday while the weather was a balmy 35 degrees, Douglas and I went outside to play on the monkey bars and shoot a few pictures as proof that Michigan's winter hasn't totally left us hopeless and bereft of a Spring. We survived but only for about 15 minutes then had to call it quits and swing back into the house, scratching our arm-pits and making oo-oo-ee-ee (monkey) noises. (how do you spell that anyway?)
As a result of returning to that re-circulated air, Douglas spent last night emptying his innards, much in the fashion that Isaac did about a week ago. Luckily Douglas knows the feeling and can ask for a bowl and help. Also, because of his excellent aim, there was no mess that a good laundry machine couldn't clean up. He is better now, I think… He plans on recovering by Wednesday for that is the big day, the day in which the Kindergarteners and not the "Graders," as Reed calls the "upper-classmen," get to go to the movies to see "Horton Hears a Who."
I just had Chris edit my entry here. He's my comma conscience (wow, I just spelled that last word correctly. I always find it a relief when my arch enemy Mr. Spell Czech doesn't underline my misspelled words in that frightening crimson color! Did Bill Gates have a bunch of old retired elementary school marms with bifocals design his editing software?) I love you Chris for your sexy calves and your Jedi-like mastery of the comma.