Every day, the little girls come home from school with a folder full of stuff. I pick out anything that needs immediate parental attention and put the rest of it into a pile. The pile grows. It develops strata. The occasional geological event occurs when they decide that something they said wasn’t important actually is. Mail gets mixed in, because I pay bills online but companies still insist on sending a paper bill anyway. Mom says I should OHIO (only handle it once) but I haven’t quite developed that habit.
I hope there is less paperwork in middle school.
Harper kept me company by deciding that a briefcase was a perfect dog bed. Never mind the other two actual dog beds designed for the comfort and happiness of dogs in my office.
Marcus sent me an image as he came into the house of a large black runner warming itself on our brick porch. I give you… snek blep.
In happier news, the new pump for the dishwasher is finally here so I may have a working dishwasher tonight! It stopped washing on Thursday and my kitchen has been a mess of disassembled dishwasher and unwashed dishes as we ordered and waited for first an inlet valve, and then (after figuring out that there were more problems) a water pump to arrive. I hand-washed dishes every morning and evening and still never quite caught up. Six people make a lot of dishes.