Here's the deal. I have yet to ride in the new truck. Forget driving it, I haven't even taken a trip to the mail box in it. It's been parked in the drive for 10 days, and all I've done is set in it twice (since we got it home)...once to help set up the On Star and once to day dream about a time in the distant future when I'll be allowed to trek around the block in it.
So I'm starting a betting pool. As the money is virtual, I think the buy in should be 10 Grand. The bet? When will FarmWife get to drive FarmBoy's new truck? Leave your guess in the comment box & we'll see who wins. The winner will get the entire virtual pot to virtually spend as he/she virtually sees fit. Good luck to you.
Yesterday, after giving up on Blogger for good (or at least for a few hours), I dove head first into industriousness. Actually it started the night before when I gathered up the offal that had collected on every flat surface of my house & put things in their rightful places. Hair bands went back in the hair band jar, DVD's in the cabinet, books on their shelves, combs in the drawer where they live. Candy wrappers were rescued from their tomb behind the entertainment center (really? Why were they there? B.B.) and sent to the garbage, tiny toys sent back to bedrooms. It was refreshing...or would have been had I finished prior to 10:45 at night.
Yesterday I tackled the laundry that was on the verge of petrifying in the basket. Not only washed, but put away the dishes, dusted the living room (yes, you read that right. I, FarmWife, dusted), cleaned out cabinets, vacuumed, scrubbed both bathrooms, redeposited stray toys in their rightful places, and made myself two head bands. All that cleanliness resulted in me dragging the kids from the house to go play at Uncle E's before they could lay waste to the utopia I had created.
During the time I spent bonding with my vacuum (which returned the favor by doing a mediocre at best job of ridding the carpet of debris), BabyGirl swept #1 Son off to her room. He emerged 20 minutes later looking like this:
Like his blue wig? It used to be a receiving blanket.
His father is so proud.