It Really Sucks that the Weekend is Over

I started my day with a harsh return to reality. Anytime we have guests staying at our house, Daddy turns into Super Stud Spic-n-Span Man. Dust on the floor? Never fear, Super Stud Spic-n-Span Man is here! He'll clean it up! Trash full? No problem! Dishes need washed? They're no match for my husband! The best part is that I don't have to ask, it all just happens. I've learned that it's best if I just sit back and enjoy his Super Skills. I'm sure people think that I'm super-lazy and never do anything around the house, but that's simply not true. I just don't do anything when we have company.

Once the company leaves, he goes back to his mortal self. A mortal self who is pretty helpful when it comes to housework, but not quite at the same level. You know how he took the trash out at least fifteen times this weekend? He won't do it again for at least a week. And even then, it'll probably require a certain level of nagging for it to happen. (Yes, I could take the trash out myself. However, we like to play this game with the trash. I say that whoever "fills" it should take it out. Daddy somehow can manage to fit another item in that can over and over and over again for days. He'll even start stacking things beside the trash can so that it's not "full". I refuse to empty the trash when pulling the can out of the corner means an avalanche is coming and I'm going to have to spend fifteen minutes picking up crap all over the floor. And that is how neither one of us will empty the trash. (Note to self: Alexis will be assigned trash duty as soon as it's a feasible task for her.))

My other reality check came in the form of a reminder of what happens when you neglect the garden for a month. I spent hours cleaning up the dead Zinnias around the Oak tree. They were dead because not even a cactus could have survived the dry conditions around that little circle. I figured out that they were dying due to a lack of water a few weeks ago, but still didn't go to the trouble of starting to water them. So I ripped them all out, planted a few tulips (a few is defined as about 100 around here), and planted some mums. I'm not happy about those mums. They are a sign of fall, and I hate to admit that fall may be around the corner. Or here already. Whichever.

I also spent forever ripping out hundreds of Obedient Plants under our weeping peach tree. Whoever named them that had one heck of a sense of humor. They should be called Toddler Plants. They isn't anything obedient about them. In fact, the only way to keep them under control is to treat them terribly. I wonder if that would work with a certain toddler? Hmm . . .

Speaking of the toddler, she had a spectacular day. No, seriously. She has been remarkably well-behaved all day. It has a little bit to do with the finger paints, markers, and Dora coloring books I bought her the other day.



One more thing -- Happy Birthday, Uncle Eric!