The arrival of midwestern Spring has been slow and temperamental. The kids have been restless and temperamental.
I ask them to play outside for at least a few minutes every night after dinner. I have visions of their youth spent playing in a bucolic garden, on a leafy charming street of bungalows as the sunlight dims and the vintage streetlights glow…
So far, I’ve had to bring them back inside for screaming at “bloody murder” levels because:
-The hose was too slippery
-Felix told Charlie he was annoying
-There was a puddle
-Charlie had the worst day of his life, EVER
-The cat got out (and just sat there, but still caused screaming)
-Someone put a sock on someone’s head
girl at large 