"Dinosaurs get real dirty, Momma. I think they need a bath." So he bathed them, and I bathed him...this morning.
It's Labor Day. But we're not doing any labor of any sort. Instead we're watching it rain heavily outside our windows and watching for Grandma to pull into our driveway around lunch.
Parker is holding his bottle all by himself most of the time now...Sigh...Very Long Sigh.
New tub seat, new tooth. New address? It looks like we'll be getting one of those too. This past week our house sold itself. While Jim and Jake played a game of football in the grass and Parker and I went to Michael's, a couple pulled next to our driveway, got out of their car along with their real estate agent, and asked to see the inside. Packages of Gerber 2nd stage foods and a bag of chips still open on the table didn't matter. It wasn't perfect, but it was perfect for them. And now we're trying to settle into a new home that's perfect for us - find the address that's perfect for us.
The Tuscaloosa Garage Sale page on Facebook is the best thing since Pinterest. I mean really. Where else can you read ads like, "Couch for Sale: Fifteen years old with minimal wear and tear." (Did you catch the fifteen years part? And the minimal wear and tear part?), and where else can you empty your backyard completely in less than twenty-four hours?
Parker weighs a hefty seventeen pounds, two ounces as of this past Thursday, and the room he's lying in isn't spinning anymore when Jim lifts his head from his pillow (That's always a plus right there.).
My completely empty suitcase just gave me the evil eye.
I better go put something in it.
Happy Labor Day!
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