Charles turned to the sitter in disgust and said, " Five minutes! I can get more than that on Ebay."
This afternoon I got home from running errands and taking Oliver to gymnastics, and quite frankly, was totally and completely sick of my offspring. As in, I couldn't stand being around them. So I unloaded the groceries, got everyone out of the car, and then went and hid in the front yard sitting on the curb. For awhile the kids couldn't find me. They were playing in the backyard, or upstairs fighting with each other under the guise of doing homework.
Oliver found me first. He settled in next to me at the curb and looked at the advertisement from the mailbox next to us. "Mommy" (technically, I do not allow the children to call me mommy, though I've noticed to my horror that on occasion I refer to myself as mommy when speaking to the younger half, and Oliver calls me this on occasion when we are alone and he is feeling calm and thoughtful) "Mommy, when I grow up I'm going to move out and buy a bed just like that one," he said, pointing to the advertisement. "How many dollars is it? Do you think I can afford it?"
I didn't really answer the question. He then began investing his legs and feet. He is always, ALWAYS, barefoot. I now keep a pair of Walmart crocs in the car for the purpose of having something on his feet when we go into stores, etc. He studied his foot for a few moments. It has a couple scabs, scratches and gouges. He began tapping at it. "Mom, I think my foot has a broken leg, because it hurts."
