First the children got the cold. Quinten sounds like a chain-smoking waitress in a seedy coffee shop. If Sheldon and Quinten’s noses entered the Boston Marathon, they’d come in first and second place. Yes. That’s how fast they run.
We’ve been surviving by watching Peter Pan over, and over and over. I yell “Stop running” a lot, and not just to their noses. Q wants to run. He’s three. He also has picked up annoying lines from watching too much Peter Pan.
This morning he told me, “Alright, but you gotta take orders!” while I sliced an apple for him.
Then, Derrick got sick. He is sick, sick, sick, sick. He has what we call a man cold. What is a man cold you ask?
Watch this (and remember that 999 is the British 911)(I think):
Needless to say, I’ve been saying “Poor Little Bunny” a lot lately.
Sadly, this dangerous illness will be preventing Derrick from helping out in Cubbies tonight. Cubbies are a rowdy bunch of three and four year-olds who do crafts and learn bible verses. Their mascot is a bear puppet named Cubbie Bear. They also eat about six cookies as a snack. It’s a winning combination of sitting still for a long time and ingesting copious amounts of sugar.
Derrick’s devastated that he wont be there tonight. Poor Little Bunny.
In other news, I made a lego farm with Q this morning. We sang about Old Mac Donald having a farm. And on that farm there was a snail. I couldn’t wait to find out what sound a snail makes but Q filled me in:
“With a slurp slurp here and a slurp slurp there, here a slurp der a slurp everywhere a slurp slurp.”
I almost died. Of course snails slurp! How could I be so ignorant?!
Then I found a quiet moment to make calls to my new bible study group. I try to make calls with grace and dignity, at least until I get to know my ladies. Guess who decided that it would be a good time to catch a tree frog?
Q. Then he started yelling at me, regarding the frog, and how he ruves frogs and the poor frog was trying to escape and commit suicide by jumping into the side of the house and I really couldn’t even remember who I was calling, so someones message machine probably has me saying “Hi Maud” when it’s really “Stacy” that I’m trying to talk to.
How does a three year old catch a tree frog anyway?
So we spent some time making a home for this frog, and now he’s living in a Cascade carton in Q’s room. My snake loving sister is going to come by and bring some frog food and maybe a better habitat for the frog.
Does anyone know what the life expectancy of a tree frog in captivity is?