We have enough interest that the Peep Show will go on! It will be smaller than previous years, but that is okay. :)
All-O-ver, Ol-i-vore . . . we're learning that Oliver's name has some fun mispronunciations.
Also, ask him what is name is and this is what you'll hear: "My name is Oli . . . Oli . . . Oliv . . . Oli . . . I don't know."
Here I am at SFO. Again. What should have been a 40 minute layover has turned into a 5 hour layover with merely a possibility of getting on the red-eye at 10:30. Flying standby. And if I don't get on the standby flight . . . they tell me my next shot at JFK isn't for 24 hours. Yeah. So let's hope that doesn't happen. And if I don't get on standby, well, there's got to be another way home.
S: Oliver, Is Mom a child of God?
O: Yes!
S: No, Mom is a grown up!
The one night -- ever -- when Micah and I get to bed at 10:00 and could, feasibly, get 9 hours of uninterrupted sleep, Simon wakes up crying inexplicably at midnight and can't go back to sleep, Oliver falls out of bed, and we're all out a couple of hours of sleep. Clearly we need to never try to go to to bed early. It's the only way to get a good night's sleep around here.
Centipede #4 invaded our apartment last night. He was smaller than some of the other visitors we’ve had, but oh, so tricky. He faked like he was going into the bathroom, then turned on a dime and made a beeline in the other direction where we lost him for a few minutes. Was he under the couch? Or in the spare bedroom? And would we find out before bedtime, or would we spend a sleepless night jumping at every small movement of sheets? We worried that when we next saw our ugly friend, it would be when he reared his ugly head for a strike that would send us, once again, to the ER. Fortunately, we did not take off our shoes, so when he came crawling out from under the door mat, we were ready. He didn’t stand a chance against the stomping he was up against (in fact, we managed to knock some of his socks–I mean legs–off), and we were able to sleep reasonably soundly. But then we have to ask, How did he get in? Will his friends come to find him? *shudder*
At least he wasn’t in our bed.
This reminds me of Star Wars Episode II when those creepy crawly centipede-type things get into Queen Amidala’s (sp?) room. Anyway, ew. That is all I have to say. Ew.
Ummm, yeah, ew is a good word. I would have had a very sleepless night had it not been found. I’d almost rather have spiders. Almost.