The kitchen is clean, the fridge is cleaned out, the towels are in the dryer and the diapers in the wash, and dinner is maybe cooking in the slow cooker... the knob broke off a month ago, but it was still working if you used a towel to turn it... now the seasoned chicken and carrots we were going to eat all weekend are simmering incredibly lightly. Hmm! First my rice cooker died on me, and now this?! Granted, the crock pot sat for the first five years of our marriage unused (sorry, Brian! it was a lovely gift) but we have adored it and used it once or twice a week lately. And it dies?! It's at least incredibly sick, it seems. Boo!
Sophie found a golf ball at the park this week, and asked me if she could throw it. I advised her it was heavy and hard and better for rolling on the ground. She told me she needed a bat. I told her it would actually be a golf club, and to ask Daddy to share his when we got home. She remembered, and so now they are swinging a huge club around the living room taking gentle whacks at the ball and trying to get it in her monkey cup. Pretty cute.
I still have quite a bit of cleaning to do, but I also want to get some writing in today and tomorrow. It's nice to settle in for a long stretch knowing that I'm not delaying Dashing Daddy's work hours.
Sophie just said, "Let's go get it!" re: the golf ball. Her sentences keep getting longer and more complete. She also gave us quite the dramatic performance today at lunch, crying a little but mostly eating the scenery rather than the pizza, complete with hand gestures. I mean, raised hand, fingers splayed, shaking up and down, returning to cover her face, streak down her cheeks, back out in dramatic flourish... we applauded her when she was done and she seemed to appreciate that.