I went to high school with the mom and dad of this ridiculously beautiful 2-year-old:
Who would have guessed back then that they would end up getting married…?
And end up having such a wonderfully sweet little girl.
I’m sure glad they did.
Most evenings before going to bed, I step out onto our front porch to check for any toys that may have been left there by my kids.
And I almost always find something that’s been carefully arranged by my 4-year-old: a semi-circle of half-dressed Barbies, a surgeon-style layout of 300 hair clippies, or a Polly Pocket conga line.
This time it was a precariously balanced horse stable arrangement.
Whatever I find usually makes me smile.
It’s a good way to end my evenings.
Oh the stalling…
I think she won this time around.
My 1st grader made a robot at school.
The robot’s name is “H-2000″ and he descends from a long line of Ry-Krisp and Band-Aid boxes.
I asked my son what the “H” stands for, but he said he doesn’t know.
In all honestly, H-2000 almost met his demise when he and I first came face-to-face. The robot was tucked inside a Target bag and I thought he was one of the bathroom garbage bags from upstairs.
My deepest apologies, H-2000. It won’t happen again.