Rakes started the day getting up before 6 a.m. and ended it sitting on the couch watching tv in his Spider Man pajamas and his busted Redskins football helmet. How does one actually BREAK a football helmet? I have no clue; but there's your proof right there.
In between these two events, we had 762 times he asked me to "play Tar Wars wit me, Dad", one brief nap that consisted of he and I laying on the couch while his jimmie legs kicked me repeatedly in the marbles, and countless threats of bodily harm if he hit his sister ONE MORE TIME.
Highlight of the day? Tonight at bed time; Ang has already gotten Trot out and is getting him dressed while Rakes is still in the tub hollering "Come look at dis, Sissy". Of course Ciera is ignoring him so I stroll in to see what he's doing.
You know those foam bath toys that are letters and numbers in all sort of different colors? If you get them wet they stick to the side of the tub; theoretically you are supposed to use them to teach your kids the alphabet and their 1, 2, 3's. Theoretically.
You can see where this is going, right?
There was Rakes, sitting Indian Style in the tub and holding the letter B; I'll give you 3 guesses what he had sticking through the hole at the top while he giggled like a maniac.
Throw in Trot with his hole in his lip and a respiratory infection, Ciera in full-on loud/giggle mode, and me working on 5 hours of sleep AND Saturday being house cleaning day? Let's just say it's awfully nice and quiet right now.
'Course tomorrow we get up and do it all over again.
Tell me again why I want ANOTHER one?