Let's put on our Monday suits and get down to business.
As Friday didn't present me an opportunity to post (due mainly to the fact a critical bout of lazy struck right as inspiration did, thereby canceling both things out and prompting me to go eat ice cream instead), I'm sending you a snapshot of weekend happenings around the Split Level:
1.) Doc Holiday is mobile and in love with both climbing the vacuum cleaner and trying to hoist his fat form into the bottom drawer of the oven. The only reason for the latter, I can think of, is the baby believes himself to be a plump Christmas ham.
Although the twins didn't put this idea in his head, they're happy to encourage it or any other plans the baby has to fall off of or into something.
2.) Speaking of the twins, Sundance started Saturday wearing a dress as a dress and another dress as skirt under the first dress. Today she's in a swimsuit with a tutu that was partially ripped in an altercation over, as usual, nothing important. She's ready for the day.
3.) Butch has taken to wearing his Spider Man goggles while riding around in the back of the van, and waking up mysteriously in his swimsuit. When asked for a quote about his time at the pool yesterday, he responded that he was, "Too tooooold and wanna go home."
4.) Please don't ask me whether I wore anything this weekend besides a robe, pajamas, and a bemused yet frustrated expression at life.
5.) Google Reader is biting the dust, people. Why Google does the things it does, we may never know, but what I do know is you can still follow me and my motley crew (disclaimer* not the actual band) on Blog Lovin'.
6.) Butch took a glass and threw it down our back steps to see what would happen. Through the magic of the writing process, you don't get to see my head spin around twice and me cleaning it up through muffled expletives.
7.) Lastly, my good friend Grace over at Camp Patton has been kind enough to read At Least My Belly Hides My Cankles and host a giveaway. In case I've never given you the background info, the leader of the Camp and I have known each other for a very long time, having met at an actual summer camp when we were eleven or twelvish.
As far as I remember, that summer's list of activities was kyaking, ingesting the strangest mac and cheese I've ever eaten, and tying our roomate to her bed with dental floss while she slept. The author apologizes if her memory is faulty and Grace was not the one who helped with that particular endeavor.
Until Next time, Readers!