On the occasional evening, when Ben and I don’t feel as if we’ve been overcome with carbon monoxide gases, we’ll throw blankets and pillows on our bedroom floor and watch PG movies with Lexi and Whitney. When we’re about half way through the movie we take an intermission and make popcorn because if we don’t have popcorn, well then, it JUST ISN’T A MOVIE NIGHT. Doesn’t count. Whitney won’t let us hear the end of it until our grievous infraction has been rectified with a redo movie night. And you know what? By God there’s popcorn on redo movie night!
Heidi doesn’t join us for movie nights since she can’t sit still long enough to make it through the opening credits. And I can’t enjoy a movie while she transverses the room like a squirrel after a couple cans of Red Bull.
Of course we don’t tell Heidi about our movie nights since she already assumes we bring out the ponies and balloons and fill the bathtub with strawberry milk AFTER bed time. I’m not entirely sure where she got this idea. Although it might run in the genes considering Ben assumes I prance around in lingerie until I hear his keys in the door and then quick change back into my waist-high undies and sports bra.
Heidi’s transitioned into a size five diaper. And since both her sisters potty trained once they hit this diaper size, I expect we’ll start potty training her in the next couple of months. We’ll subscribe to the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, then line the house from wall to wall with whatever is left of the real estate section.
Heidi and I snuck in a quick shower after my Dad left this morning. I say snuck because we’re not supposed to be running the water until the well-tank is replaced. I won’t go into the salacious, riveting details surrounding the well-tank issue, except that there’s a well-tank and a float-thingy, and they have a problem. Trust me, discussing this subject in any further detail would be as pleasant as receiving a noogie administered by a girl, like me, who’s observed the no-running-the-water-or-shower-rule for the past four days. It’ RIPE here people!
Now it’s my understanding that running the water won’t actually damage the well-pump. However, if my Dad caught wind that we took showers this morning, his brain matter might come shooting out of his ears with such velocity that we’d need to clean-up the mess with soap and a bucket of water. Thus requiring we buy more bottled water. So let’s just keep it between you, me and the entire Internet. M’kay? Hear that Jordan? – you never read this post.
After our illicit showers, we toweled-off and Heidi made a beeline for her castle. Ben went to look for something to put her in since we’d forgotten to take care of this little detail before the shower, just as we always forget to find clothes for the girls before all the other thousands of prior showers. And each time we look at each other and are…Did YOU forget the clothes again? EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. We also enjoy, repeatedly, knocking our heads against the concrete basement walls.
