My week of freedom is over and I don't have a lot to show for it except another afghan, and I read a LOT of Twilight (again.) Pathetic? Maybe, but it was fun. The kids had a fun week. Here are some of their highlights:
My parents let them ride their bikes to the dollar store whenever they wanted so they made that a daily ritual.
Sam said he almost got hit by a car on his bike and he etched the face of the teenager who was driving in his mind. (to plot revenge)
Kira drove my mother crazy by going outside, getting wet, coming in and changing; going outside, getting wet, coming in and changing; etc. etc.
Sam got a ball on a string from the dollar store with the intention of throwing it at the crazy-driving-teenager if he ever saw him. (It was on a string, so it was more of a fake-out revenge. Sam doesn't want to incur the wrath of an unpredictable teenager. [or lose his ball])
My sister's beagle is probably suffering from PTSD from all the attention Kira gave it throughout the week.
Sam taped a flashlight to the handlebars of his bike, but instead of having it point ahead of him, he had it pointing straight down so it would illuminate the big pothole by the dollar store at EXACTLY the moment he was going over it. (Oh btw, he never rode the bike in the dark.)
Later in the week, Sam actually saw the teenager who almost hit him with the car walking down the street, and happened to have his ball-on-a-string handy so he worked up the courage to put his revenge plan into effect. Unfortunately the ball-on-a-string was from the dollar store so when he threw it the string broke, but fortunately Sam's throwing aim isn't the greatest so the ball missed the teenager by a mile and hit a truck instead.
Today we celebrated Easter over at my in-laws and during dinner the whole family told story after hilarious story about falling from heights. My fave was the story of Mitch's dad fixing a roof when Mitch was about four. Mitch was too little to be unsupervised, but also too young to be set free on a roof, so the compromise was to nail the back of Mitch's shirt securely to the roof. Unfortunately Mitch's dad slipped and started falling and as he was falling and rolling and grabbing at anything and everything, he yelled out, "CALL YOUR MOTHER!" He broke his arm but he was okay. Eventually. I was laughing too hard to ask how Mitch got down.