My nine-year-old still does not see any problem with filling up a toy truck (cement mixer) with water and leaving it on the living room floor under her brother's care while she goes to the pantry to get flour to make cement. How she was planning on getting the flour out of the large rubbermaid container into the quarter-sized opening in the top of the plastic truck I never got to find out because I grabbed the thing and dumped the water down the sink.
"Why can't we make cement?" she asked. The question amazes me.
"Because it's 99% guaranteed to make a huge mess on the wood floor! No cement in the house. If you guys really want to make cement, it has to be outside."
"Fine. Get your coat on, Deetman."
In fact, he needs trousers, socks, rubber boots, and a raincoat, because the backyard is soaked. Since we got back from a trip to the sweltering and beautiful Okanagan valley, it's been drizzle and greyness here on our lovely (?) island. I am not a warm weather person, and I love fog, but GIVE ME A BREAK. It's freaking August! It's the last two weeks before school! ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Climate change is Satan. I've had a total of six ripe tomatoes in my garden this year, and all of them have been cherry. It's quite depressing.
Okay! Now that's out of my system I'll tell you how I'm spending my days: applying for jobs, interviewing for jobs, visiting daycares, and trying to find ways to keep doing the two jobs I already have.
And reading Penelope Trunk whenever I have a chance.
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