How is it Saturday already? Seriously.
That is all.
* * *
Last Sunday Mr Lannis and I woke up and stared at the ceiling. No, seriously — we did.
And in the rare chance to laze in bed together while our boys played nicely (yes, they were awake! I know, I’m amazed, too!), we plotted our day.
And just like that, a day with no plans turned into a day with big plans: that playhouse was coming apart!
We got to work, despite 4c drizzle. Mr Lannis heroically swept creepy crawlies from the pieces of giant Tupperware before I had to go near it.
I was on wash duty.
I scrubbed. And scrubbed, and scrubbed. (Sadly, this is the second time this year I’ve scrubbed this roof — though I’m happy to report it’s much easier when you’re not willing your arms to be just a teensy bit longer, as you stand, teetering, on a chair while your five year old helpfully reminds you that you are the living example of what not to do.)
Did I mention it was 4c out? And raining? Want to know how cold my hands were? The water from the hose felt warm, that’s how cold my hands were...
But it was worth it.
Because our goal was to take this —
And turn it into this —
Because sometimes, even when you live in Canada, this creeps up on you —
And we couldn’t have that happen (again) this year.
I live in a small town with my favourite people: my husband, Mr Lannis, and our two boys, along with two cats and one hamster.
If you follow me on Twitter, you might witness my issues with linear thought, road rage, spending more money on food than books, and potty mouth. Be warned.
