...but we were all grateful, here, today, that we are no longer a part of you.
Miss Boo wasn't quite sure what a king was, or why it would be a problem to have one.
Buddy really wanted to help me grill the burgers. Really. Really really. He got worked up enough over his country's independence that he said "hey" to his father a couple of times, and correctly identified S--on my Sealy Posturpedic mattress-- as the letter that goes "ssssssssss". (Item: it is weird to have a kid who is learning to read before he really likes to talk. It's not a fluke, either--he did A the other day, too. Pointing: "MMMM. Bama. AAAAYYYYYYAAAAYYYY!" I'm Bama, in case you didn't know.)
Littleman is...teething. And we're pretty sure they're Tory teeth. The cowards. Miss Boo sweetly brought him her amber teething necklace, even though it really bothered her that he wouldn't keep it on straight (with the pendant pointing down).
And I am typing this at 9:39pm because, in Texas, everything is bigger--including the neighborhood fireworks. My goodness. It's my inner cheapskate coming out, but come ON. The money people spend on these things. I've seen fireworks displays for entire towns that pale in comparison. It's difficult to be sympathetic with people who are feeling the recession but can still buy fireworks. (And did I mention that nurses hate fireworks? We do. We try not to spoil everyone's fun. But come on. Keep your thumbs and eyeballs away from the gunpowder, please.)
On that cheery note, and thanking the Lord that everyone fell asleep in their own beds tonight, I will bid you adieu.
Happy Independence Day!
Breanna
Miss Boo wasn't quite sure what a king was, or why it would be a problem to have one.
Buddy really wanted to help me grill the burgers. Really. Really really. He got worked up enough over his country's independence that he said "hey" to his father a couple of times, and correctly identified S--on my Sealy Posturpedic mattress-- as the letter that goes "ssssssssss". (Item: it is weird to have a kid who is learning to read before he really likes to talk. It's not a fluke, either--he did A the other day, too. Pointing: "MMMM. Bama. AAAAYYYYYYAAAAYYYY!" I'm Bama, in case you didn't know.)
Littleman is...teething. And we're pretty sure they're Tory teeth. The cowards. Miss Boo sweetly brought him her amber teething necklace, even though it really bothered her that he wouldn't keep it on straight (with the pendant pointing down).
And I am typing this at 9:39pm because, in Texas, everything is bigger--including the neighborhood fireworks. My goodness. It's my inner cheapskate coming out, but come ON. The money people spend on these things. I've seen fireworks displays for entire towns that pale in comparison. It's difficult to be sympathetic with people who are feeling the recession but can still buy fireworks. (And did I mention that nurses hate fireworks? We do. We try not to spoil everyone's fun. But come on. Keep your thumbs and eyeballs away from the gunpowder, please.)
On that cheery note, and thanking the Lord that everyone fell asleep in their own beds tonight, I will bid you adieu.
Happy Independence Day!
Breanna
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