“Don’t ever throw Cheerios on the floor again, Charlotte. I don’t like picking them up.”
“Your sun tea is spicy, Momma, try it!” “Dude, you just spit in it. I don’t want any!”
“Sunburns don’t hurt, Momma. I don’t need sunscreen.” (Spoken by the dear son who once blistered his shoulder when I missed a spot. He would have disagreed with himself if that was still in his memory, I assure you.)
“Mom, I’m getting you wet on your arm.” “Don’t spit on me, Sterling.”
“Why is fire hot?” “Why do plants need water?” “Why did Daddy plant beans?” “Why are we going to the pool?” “Why does Charlie’s toy squeak when you push the nose?” (Continue for another 200 “why’s”. Per hour.)
“How old were you when you got married, Momma?” “18.” “How old was Daddy when he got married?” “25".” “He was bigger than you then too, Momma!” Sure thing.
“Good thing we watered the goats this morning, Momma! It’s hot today!” Yep, 98 and counting sounds hot to me. It’s only 90 in the house though, does that count? Thus, the pool…
Sterling learned to care for his own hygiene in the bathroom last week. This week, he’s trying to convince Ruby he can wipe her bottom too. She’s not convinced. Neither am I.
Not impressed with my SPF 30 water-resistant sunscreen. Sterling and Ruby, my two most active in the water, seem to have escaped the sunburn. Charlotte and I, not so much. We were in the shade most of the time. Really, I don’t know what to think on that one. Baby, I am so sorry. I turned that skin white with sunscreen just like everyone else. Grr.
My girls are coming home! Two days, can’t wait…