I had no intention to write a Not Me! post this week. And that's for real. [gasp]
I was going to take a break, sit back and enjoy reading a few other hypothetical, jawdropping stories, and dunk Oreos while I Facebooked my MIL. (She joined 2 days ago and I know she'd like a few comments on her wall.)
But then MckMama went and
Oh, dear. That's not right either.
What I'm trying to say is, well, click on over to My Charming Kids and you'll see what I'm trying to say.
Onward and upward!
The other day, when I put Luke out here again, to burn off his 2 year old energy:
I did not catch him in the most bizarre postion and think, "Hmm, that really does look relaxing."
And I didn't ask questions. So your guess is as good as mine.
And I do not have to get this off of my chest. So here it goes.
You see, I've been repurposing the closet that's under our stairs in our basement. We used to store our 14 foot, artificial Christmas tree, along with other Christmas decorations in there, but right now I'm in the middle of turning it into the Imagination Hideaway Station for our children. (Who am I kidding? It's for me, too!) And while I was painting all of the walls and the ceiling a Muddy Blueberry Blue, I did not dribble paint across our 2 year old, cream carpet as I walked through to our storage room for more paint. No I did not!
But if someone did do something of the sorts, I'm sure they'd spend a lot of time scrubbing to get the darn dribble spots out. They'd have most certainly learned their lesson. I bet they wouldn't dribble again--for example--like if they were painting a Featherstone Grey diamond atop their blue. Because you know, I'm sure they'd close their eyes and pray--before they even started--that they wouldn't drip. And I bet they wouldn't.