A New Pair of Jeans

It's been awhile since I've posted, and this is why--there is not much to say when you spend your days holding fevery, crying children while watching fifteen hours of Wonder Pets straight. After so many hours of watching a turtle, hamster, and duck save various baby animals across the globe, I came up with a viewing strategy--simply hold crying youngster in lap with one arm and hold a book in the other hand. This works fairly well, however, I don't advise reading a book about people in a nursing home dying. You might look down at your fevery baby who's struggling to breathe, decide he's dying, and call your husband to come home from work immediately and give him a blessing. Your husband may tell you to please stop reading your book and go outside and get some fresh air, because the Wonder Pets theme song has warped your brain.

He may be right because the next day, said dying baby, is back to his old self, jumping off Parker's bunk bed and bloodying his nose. After cleaning up one Deacon disaster after another, I had pretty much had it with that kid. So when he got into the pantry and dumped a container of trail mix all over my freshly vacuumed carpet, I decided I needed to do something about that boy.

I sold him to Chris.

"Alright," Chris said, when I told him I was selling Deacon to him, "but I work all day, so I'm going to have to hire you to take care of him."

"I'm very expensive, and I don't work overtime."

"I'll give you everything I have."

"Deal."

And that is why I left Chris with HIS baby and bought myself a new pair of jeans. And also why he had to put HIS child in the car seat. And put HIS child to bed. And change HIS child's diaper. I'm loving this whole selling children thing.