Someone please tell me what it is about dishtowels and potholders that make them IRRESISTIBLE to my children. I have totally given up on folding these things after I wash them... now they are just thrown - well, stuffed, really - into two drawers in the kitchen. They would fit in ONE drawer if they were folded. I think. They've never been folded long enough for me to determine the truth of that statement. BOTH of the girls love to get these things out, throw them all over the entire house like giant confetti, OR (my favorite) pretend like they are stepping stones or hopscotch squares. If they fall off, they get eaten by invisible alligators - or something like that. It's the strangest thing... Hey, wait a minute. A lightbulb just went off, and I seem to recall that Angela and I used to do almost the exact same thing, except it was with couch cushions. Hmm. Now that I think about it, maybe my kids aren't that strange, after all!
The other day Sadie was sitting on my bed with me, pretending to be in a boat. We rocked one way, then the other, then the "wind" started blowing. Apparently, it started "raining," too. Sadie looked at me and said, "You're a storm, Mommy!" So, I blew and shook and pretended to rain for a while. Suddenly, Sadie jumped up, held her hand up in my face and said, "Hey! Stop it, you, you BAD OLD STORM! BE STILL! Do what I say! I'm JESUS!" :)
Last night, Mama and I took the girls shopping. When we left the shopping center, we got lost. I'm serious. We went a back way, and I REALLY thought I knew where we were going. Alas, I was wrong. You heard it here first, folks! I was wrong! We drove around aimlessly somewhere along the tune of 25 minutes, and Sadie and Josie were in the back sing-songing, "We're Lost! We're LO--OST!" "Where are we, Mommy? Where are we when we're lost?" This did not help matters. I gave up and called my father-in-law, who said in his sweet, understanding way, "What a moron!" hehee! When we finally made it back to the highway, it was past bedtime, and we had to think fast to avoid breakdowns in the backseat. Mama and I broke out singing the timeless classic: "I Know a Weenie-Man." This was an instant favorite of both girls, who tried really hard to sing along, but they mainly ended up saying the last words in a phrase:
Man!
Stand!
HOT DOG!
DOWN!
LIFE!
Wife!
MAN!!!
The actual song goes like this - in case you ever want to use it to avoid a breakdown of your own:
I know a weenie-man
He owns a weenie-stand
He sells most anything from hot dogs on down
Someday, I'll share his life
I'll be his weenie-wife
Hot dog! I love that weenie-man!!!
Don't ask. :)
