Thursday, December 17, 2009

Pulp Fiction, anyone?

You might say that the stress level at the house is a little higher than usual. We leave tomorrow afternoon for Ohio. We have to be packed for 9 days, 5 parties and Christmas, including gifts for exchanging in Ohio. When we return home, Santa will have already come.

The children seem to sense this and adjust their behavior accordingly. They adjust it to code red a#$hole. I have yelled more in the last two days than in the previous two months.

Kat (exasperated): "If I have to tell you guys to stop running and stop screaming one more time, my head will explode!"

Jackson walks into my office and sits down in my lap. He puts his hand on my face.

Jackson: "I don' wan' yer hed to esplode. Den my face will be aw messeee."

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