To whomever rang the doorbell yesterday around 11:30 am,
I know that you knew that we were home. You probably knew that I knew you knew. I now know that you probably knew that I knew you knew.
I don't think it was the fact that I was still in my pajamas that made me hesitant to open the door. It was more the large amount of L1's snot smeared on my shoulders. You probably wouldn't want to see that. Or the miserable crying children in the background.
Also, you would see that we resorted to things like:
dragging the crib mattress into the living room to make our own personal jump club
putting on slippery socks and ice skating on the wood floor
baking brownies and eating the entire pan
building a Lego tower taller than W1 and then knocking it over, again and again
to keep our sanity (did we succeed? I'm not sure).
And thanks for leaving your business card so that I didn't have to wonder if I missed someone important!
And I hope that if you come knocking at my door tomorrow, I won't be home. Instead, I will be out with healthy children doing something fun.
Like buying milk.
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3 comments:
you just made my day!! you are sooo funny.
I agree with Carla.
Sometimes I hate it when people come to my door (or ring my phone). I feel like it's my right to not answer my door or pick up my phone for all of the reasons you mentioned. But somehow it still makes me feel guilty not to.
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