So our friend had the baby. C-section, went well, baby lovely, mom recovering. Daddy Man arrived a couple of hours ago and I’m sure that baby has him wrapped around her perfect tiny little finger already.
Barbie’s entire wardrobe exploded into our living room earlier today, and there was much resentment among the small fry that we had the GALL to request (okay, demand) that it all be picked up before we would allow lunch to occur. Every army moves on its stomach, so eventually we had what had to pass for compliance. This reminded me strongly of when I was a kid about Delia’s age and my cousins (on my father’s side) would come visit. I had inherited an impressive array of Barbies and Barbie accessories from my glamorously teenaged aunts (on my mother’s side), and it always looked like a glittering sequined hurricane had tossed my bedroom after my cousins had left. After a time or two my Mom and my Aunt Joyce wised up and the cousins were required to help me pick up the bajillion impossibly tiny outfits before leaving. It had been overwhelming to me at the age of 7 to gather all that up and I was ridiculously grateful when this new policy was put into place.
We shoveled our own kids into bed in a timely fashion tonight as there was evidence of exhaustion, and it has been a blissful evening of gaming in the silent dark ever since. Goodnight, internets.