Every morning my family room is hit by one tiny unnatural disaster called, "Hurricane Meghan". She swoops in, dumps out all the toys, spreads them around, and spends the rest of the day playing with her "new found" treasures. Hours of fun spent dressing up in Disney princess shoes, building with blocks, sorting through her many trinkets, playing with her dollhouse and the occasional "coco" party with her tea set...at the end of the day we usher our sleepy hurricane through her bedtime regime of teeth brushing, allergy medicene, reading of stories, prayer, and her protests over going to sleep. When all is settled mom and dad swoop in to do a better job than FEMA of cleaning up, just so that the little hurricane can strike again tomorrow.
1 comment:
you know they just can't see anything in those buckets and do not have the long term memory of what we have as adults to remember exactly what was in that bin from the day before.
Post a Comment