My son the writer

Busy day again today, but that is nothing new. My aunt had knee replacement surgery today and, thankfully, she came through it fine. I'm sure she is not feeling overjoyed at the whole process right now, but it will pay off soon enough. Keep pressing the button on that drip, Aunt K.

My mother and father came in to sit with my uncle at the hospital and make sure he takes care of himself an eats/sleeps/hydrates, you know, the important things a caregiver must do. Once their services were no longer needed at the hospital, they came back to our house. My mom and I have been in a consignment prep frenzy. Ironing and hanging and pinning. No, Margaret, I have not gotten a pricing gun, but I am getting one tomorrow. My fingers will be saved. I took a break to look through the kids' paperwork from school today. I found the jewel of the lot today:



The boy is learning to write freestyle thoughts. His handwriting is better than what you see...he kept correcting himself. But "Stinkbug-gate" has really changed him as a boy and as a sibling. Quick backstory from this morning, S found a stinkbug in her room this morning and brought it to me on a mound of 10 feet of toilet paper, holding her nose. She was completely freaked out. I took the offender, wrapped him up and threw him in the trash. Fast forward to his musings. The translation of his paper is: "I saw a bug. It scared my sister. That is why I like bugs." While I hate the overuse of this word, I have to say it. That kid is awesome. I love him. Stinkbug and The Boy: 1-Sister: zip.

Night everybody.
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