First of all, I would like to state that it really (really) bothers me when my kids don't come home from their dad on time. Especially when they don't come home until hours past their typical bedtime.
Having gotten that off my chest...
This weekend was rather snazzy. I spent Friday night hanging out with my dad one last time (oh, did I not mention he's been living with me for the past few weeks?) before he went home to Holland. We went over to Memo and Seestah's place and had dinnah and stared at Fathead.
Saturday morning (eaarrrlllly) found me up at the school for our carnival fundraiser. I had many a confetti egg broken on my head and danced for hours to Mickey's Dance House while doing the cake walk.
Then it was off to Seestah's for time with the Fathead. Elvis came over and we had us some dinnah and then Keith and Splat stumbled in and oh my, what fun was had. Eventually they left, I passed out in Seestah's bed from sheer lack of sleep, and Memo and Elvis played baseball games all night.
The best times.
Of course today there was church and brunch and more baby holding. We also watching Gangs of New York, which really makes me want to read some of the books they used in the research.
Tonight I'm waiting for my chilren's to come home and I'm about to watch a movie and reads me some espanol.
Mucho mas grande divertido.