Picture DaddyMan and I working on something in the kitchen while PrincessGirl and LittleMan were playing outside. The back door was open. Suddenly, DaddyMan hollers, "PrincessGirl, STOP HITTING YOUR BROTHER ON THE HEAD WITH THAT PINATA STICK RIGHT NOW!" This is followed by her going to time out for the longest time I've ever witnessed (except for when we forgot she was in time out) and a lengthy discussion about how the heads of real live people are NEVER filled with candy and prizes and how regardless of how hard you hit them on top of the head, the most interesting thing that will come out is guts and bloody.
Picture TheMommy awakened by a distant cry that seems to be getting closer and sounds like LittleMan but even in TheMommy's slumbered stupor, she knows LittleMan's crying could not be getting closer because he cannot open his bedroom door by himself. Imagine the darkness of 4 AM and the cry of a traumatized 2 1/2 year old boy that has learned to open his bedroom door just this very moment as he says, "My dyinks come out ob my mouf, my messy all ober my bed." Because of the smell that accompanied LittleMan, aforementioned slumbered stupor did not keep TheMommy from realizing that LittleMan had thrown up for the first time. A lot. Of Chicken Express. And Sweet Tea. And Marshmallows. Don't judge, it was the 4th or by this time 5th of July.
Well we are back in our house after the Great And Only Floor Replacement That Will Ever Take Place Ever and I intend to post some pictures of the process and the beautiful finished product real soon.
That "real soon" part above may actually be embellished a little bit or even a lot.