1. Twice a week, I sit in my van for an hour while Gracie goes to tennis lessons. Bean stays in the van with me. And it is torture for both of us. He is bored. I want to read. He is fidgety. I want to sit quietly. He is eight. I am thirty-four. Those are becoming the two longest hours of my week. Bean agrees.
2. At church this past weekend, I was waiting outside the restroom for Gracie in the children’s building and I noticed this sign on the wall. Classic. I love kids.
3. We were sitting on the sidelines at Bean’s soccer game on Saturday morning when the announcer came over the loudspeaker and said, “Anthony! Get out of that tree! Your team is waiting for you!” Have I mentioned I love kids?
4. At dinner last night, I gave Gracie her own knife and let her put her own butter on her bread. And then she butchered my butter tub. THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS. (Or tubs of butter).
5. On Gracie’s progress report, she had great academic performance, but her teacher’s comment said she “prevented other students from doing their work by her talking.” Chris and I talked to her about other things she could do when she finished her own work besides talking, but in my head I was thinking, “She’s definitely my child.”