This was me yesterday. Only not so cute. Caught some sort of bug. Enough details right there. But boy was I tired. Other than some ham and bean soup I put in the crock pot, I did nothing else. Climbed into bed. Other than feeling crummy all day, I rather enjoyed the excuse to do nothing. To just sit in my bed most of the day (outside of trips to pick up daughter from class) and stay in my sweats and do not a thing. Every other day of the year I would feel awful doing this and guilty about accomplishing nothing, but hey, I was sick, and so it was my day off. Thank goodness for older daughters who can clean and cook. Or should I say hubbies that can cook and clean. My man came in and finished up dinner and made drop biscuits. Other than having a wad of dough stuck in the whisk he shouldn't have used, it was all good.
I am sitting in my room last night listening to them at the table, "Ham is dead pig." "Are there bones in this soup? Why are there bones in this soup?" "Don't put butter in your sister's hair." "Don't spit on me, I'm serious." I am splitting in here. They are crazy people. How am I related to such poor table manners? Remember there is only one three year old out there. It hurts to laugh.