My Alligator Purse

Lainy Ann has informed us that she is running away from home. She doesn’t want to, but she has to. Apparently she was done tickling yesterday and the game continued. So, since we don’t listen to her she will have to leave.

So I set down the ground rules which led to another outburst of tears.
1. She can’t cross the street.
2. She has to live with someone we already know.
3. She can’t take any of her belongings that I have purchased.

So are there any takers on our block? Remember, she can’t cross the street.

There are many types of screams. The one I hear most often is the my-sibling-is-bugging-me-Mo-om. There is the frustrated-scream, which is usually high pitched and annoys me as early as 10 am which prompts a no-more-talking-for-the-rest-of-the-day-rule. But on Saturday it was a we-are-going-to-the-hospital-scream. I was in the shower when I heard Caskey yell, “Leslie come here”. So, here I came, dripping wet and left the water running in the shower. One look and I new it was time to go to the ER. Connor and Lainy Ann were so helpful in gathering things for the diaper bag, cleaning the water off the floor, and cleaning up the front yard as we got read at a break-neck speed. No shower for me though.

Then I started the phone calls. I wanted someone to watch Lainy Ann and Connor so they wouldn’t have to wait with us at the ER. Unfortunately my most frequently used babysitters were out of town. So I started on the 2nd tier. The ones who will help, but I hate to intrude on their family life. Score! I found someone who wasn’t doing something on a Saturday night. And the bonus, she is on the way to the hospital.

We recount the story to the ER folks. William had his helmet on and ready to go outside to ride his scooter. He tripped on the front rug as he was heading out the door and landed on our shoe rack/shelf. The kicker? Its the same shoe shelf that got him in the temple nearly 18 months ago and prompted his first set of stitches. *sigh*
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Or is it Shawn? Lainy Ann starts screaming out a warning or in fear, “Sean”! Who is Sean you ask? Our pet Roly Poly.

We are having some yard work done and poor Sean has had a bad day. First he was dug up and his home of ivy was destroyed. Then he was man-handled, um, kid-handled. He has a house of bricks and they gave him some food of berries and sticks. No dirt. I don’t know how well he will do living in his new home But they have been entertained most of the afternoon; gathering, collecting, and building. As the workmen got ready to leave they first used a leaf blower to get rid of the extra dirt on the driveway. Poor Sean was caught in his own roly-poly-tornado.

UPDATE: He was found and has been returned to his rightful place; a brick house in the driveway. Poor Sean will be squished later when I decide to move my car . . . . .