Becca woke up in a much better mood today. So did I. Maybe because I knew I had a babysitter coming and I knew John was coming home. Funny how that changes my entire attitude. He put her down for her nap and for bedtime. It is always nice when he breezes back into town. I can cook enchiladas while he wrestles with her and takes her on errands with him. And, I know just last night I swore no more spicy food, but I bought all the stuff to make the damn enchiladas before the Great Heartburn Catastrophe of 08. And, I couldn't just abandon my meager meal planning that only happens about one night a week.
Here is something that cracks me up. Becca loves taking wet wipes and cleaning the screened-in porch. She will just gleefully go out there and scrub the railings for....oh...minutes at a time. And she sings "Sing sweet nightingale, sing sweet nightingale...." as she does it. As I'm sure you ALL know, that is the song Cinderella sings as she cleans the floor on her hands and knees. The only problem is, she likes to just clean the same general area over and over. So, we have one really clean spot on an otherwise dirty porch.