“Mom, I dropped a screwdriver into the lint trap!”
“What? Oh!”
Three hours of moving the dryer and vacuuming and unplugging and unscrewing and Internet research and reaching past fan blades into places where hands shouldn’t be and screwing and replugging and moving things back into their approximate starting places…
…no more screwdriver in the lint trap. Lots of sneezes.
I have smited many dust bunnies and perhaps one or two dust gorillas this afternoon.
Marcus and Becca and I ate lunch at Panera Bakery while William and Maryanne did their thing at Borders. Maryanne and I bought coffee to drink once we got back to the house; it was grey and overcast outside, with a slight drizzle, so the hot coffee would be welcome after our short walk back to the house. I zipped and Velcro-ed and snapped the children into their raincoats, donned my own, and started herding them towards the door.
The conversation went something like this:
“Hon, I’d like to visit my parents for Easter.”
“But I can’t come with! How is that a vacation?”
“I’ll make a big batch of sweet rolls before I leave.”
“Okay!”
Every morning after breakfast, I sweep my kitchen floor and then wash it. My kitchen floor has never been so clean.
I heart my Swiffer Wet-Jet. That is all.
In case you were wondering, these extra-short entries are because I have one corporate web site due on Monday and one weblog overhaul due next Saturday–not to mention the illustration gig I’m negotiating and the one that I am still considering for a bid.
I hate ants. I hate them with a visceral deep-down sort of rage that makes me see red every time a tiny black insect marches into my kitchen from a crack at the bottom of the screen door. I hate them, and I smite them with copious amounts of Raid.
Smiting makes me feel happy. Thanks, Mom.
Not having a car is not so much fun, although it meant I got a workout this morning. The kids were clamoring for breakfast and I had no cereal, no milk, and not much else (except for eggs, which were a complete failure last night). I left them with Matthew on the couch watching _Between the Lions_ and walked to the Sheetz station that is three blocks away to pick up half a gallon of milk and a box of Frosted Flakes.
This doesn’t make me a bad mother, or a great mother–it just makes me a tired mother.
Imagine my surprise when a package arrived this morning that was stamped _Par Avion_ direct from Singapore. In it was a beautiful swatch of fabric–two yards of a thick, cotton blend woven fabric with gold brocaded geometric borders of varying widths along the length of it. I envision a long, fitted skirt… or a sheath dress with cap sleeves… or even a tailored shirt with long, flowing sleeves that are slit to the elbows, creating a kimono effect.
Timo, you’ve outdone yourself. Thank you.