The poor camera sat pretty unused most of our very long Christmas week, but I decided to empty it anyway so it’ll have a nice clean, empty SD card for the new baby’s arrival.
All in all, it was very lazy around here. We ran lots of errands, and expected She Who Must Not Be Named every day, but mostly just sat around in stasis. Mitchell played with his hundreds of new toys, I complained bitterly about well-aimed punches from the inside, Justin made interesting mathematical shapes with his new printer, and Grandpa did everything for everybody and pretty much nothing for himself because that’s what he always does. I think he’s just making sure the man at the pearly gates keeps the express lane open for him someday.
Boys will be boys.
Mitchell decided that if Mommy got to wear Daddy’s shirts, he got to wear Daddy’s shirt. He pulls it off much better than I do. This was after I spent about fifteen minutes sitting on the floor of the closet trying to explain to Justin why I couldn’t wear his “B is for Brewski” shirt to the Air Force Museum, and why the loss of this option left me no other options.
And, finally, printing with Daddy.