Yes, folks, I've finally taken the plunge and gone out and gotten myself a few kids. Mind you, I got the cream of the crop, the top of the shelf, etc. No buy-one-get-one-kind-of-sale for me!
Now lest you think that I've stolen someone's kids, rest assured that this is hardly, as in totally and completely not, the case. A very dear and wonderful friend of mine, a Mrs. K, has a husband who is out on a vessel serving our country and doing heaven knows what because not even Mrs. K has been able to communicate with him. This has been very hard for her and for her children since they cannot even talk to him and they know that he will most probably not even receive their letters while he is out. So, in view of the fact that the children are 1, 3, and 5 and the youngest is not dependent on nursing any longer, I encouraged her to please go out and meet up with him since the opportunity presented itself.
So...this first day can be summed up in one word: poop. Yes. that's right. poo...slimy smelly foul and putrid.It began shortly after breakfast when the three year old (boy2) called from the bathroom "There's poop on my shirt!" I came in to find not only that it was on his shirt but also all over the outside of the toilet, on his pants, down his legs, on the floor, and on the wall. oh dear. so I put him in the tub. what else was I going to do? And thus began my stay in the K household. stay tuned for more updates!
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