My two year old knows what my wife and I do in the night.
NO, not that…
She knows we eat ice cream after she goes to bed! The other morning she saw a bowl left sitting out from the night before with a tiny hint of mint chocolate chip. Her exact words were, "Mom and Dad eat green ice cream in the night." She's a smart one.
Those of you with small children may be familiar with the "If You Give a…" books by Laura Joffe Numeroff (e.g., "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" and "If You Give a Pig a Party"). Here's a silly story with the same feel:
If you give a frog a burrito,
he's probably going to ask you for some hot sauce.
When he sees the joke on the hot sauce packet,
he'll want to see them all.
You'll have to dig through the condiment bucket to
find as many sayings as you can.
When he's finished with the burrito,
he's going to ask you for some Rolaids.
You'll go together to the drugstore to buy them.
While you're at the drugstore,
he'll want to take his blood pressure
on one of those sit down, arm clamp machines.
He'll take his blood pressure and eat his Rolaids.
On your way out of the drugstore, he'll remember that
his pictures are waiting at the photo counter.
You go back inside to get the photos.
He'll want you to see them right away,
so you'll sit in the car and flip through the photos.
It's cold outside, so he'll want you to keep the car running
with the heat on while you browse all 432 photos.
He got double prints, so he'll want you to help him separate
the pictures into two nice stacks.
One of the photos is a picture of the frog's house.
Now that you've seen his house, he'll want to see yours.
You'll drive home.
When you get home, you'll empty your pockets on the counter.
The frog will see one of the funny hot sauce packets
that stowed away in your pocket.
He'll ask for the hot sauce packet.
And, chances are, if you give him the hot sauce,
he's going to ask for a burrito.
I hereby declare my household to be the Nation of Conster, presided over by my Royal Self, my Royal Queen, and our two Royal Princesses.
This morning the Nation of Conster was one worthy of its name. The eldest Royal Princess awoke early with a catastrophic failure of her Princess Panties (i.e., pull-ups) and a resulting two-legged, oozing, "we're going to get more messy before we can get clean", Royal Poo. His Royal Highness would have rather worked the stables, where at least He would have the benefit of a pitch fork's distance. I nearly used a whole box of wipes.
Somewhat calmed and looking forward to Royal Cinnamon Rolls, the eldest Royal Princess smote His Highness's jovial mood when deciding to drop and shatter a Royal Bowl. The Royal Broom and Royal Vacuum were called to duty.
By now, the younger Royal Princess had awoken from her beauty sleep, and was requesting her breakfast to be hastily provided. In the midst of cleaning up the shattered Royal Bowl, the Royal King had forgotten to put the Royal Cinnamon Rolls in the Royal Oven. The Royal Queen attempted to assuage the starving Royal Princess with a Royal Banana, but she would not be satisfied.
A day in the life of the Nation of Conster. This is my family, and I wouldn't trade it for anything.
For those of you who don't get it, Nation of Conster = Consternation.
Seal made with Official Seal Generator.
It just so happens that my birthday falls on Halloween. We took our girls to our church's Fall Festival, where much fun and candy was had. I told my two year old that it was my birthday party. I'm not sure if she believed me.
We moved over the weekend. We are finally back on Texas soil after 4 years in Michigan and a short stint in Oklahoma. It's good to be home.
Every time we move I'm reminded of how much stuff we have–too much.
My page could use a little eye candy. This post is courtesy of my 2 1/2 year old daughter.
Imagine my surprise today when I opened the first of 10 Play-Doh cans and found several colors had been mixed into one. Oh well, it's just one can, I thought. Then I opened the second, the third, oh no, the fourth, argh!, the fifth, and so on. All ten. Play-Doh tragedy. It won't be long before they all just look like poo. Of course, that will be fun in its own way 
If you can't tell yet, I'm not a Play-Doh color mixer. Are you the Play-Doh color mixing type?
My daughter calls these big M&M's.
A beautiful fountain. My daughter likes to use the special swizzors.
I have to admit that these do look kind of pretty now. Maybe it's not so bad.
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