The Curse

Doncha' hate it when you're trying to cram your newly-purchased feminine products underneath the bathroom sink (because god forbid that you clean out all the crap under there) and suddenly you bump into a pipe or something and it breaks and then you're in the middle of Niagara Falls, in your very own bathroom?

Yeah. Me, too.

Then you're drenched, and the floor is quickly turning into a kiddie-pool, and your children are starting to cry because you're screaming at your husband to... do something. Which he quickly and effectively does, thank God, because you realize that you have absolutely no frickin' idea where the water shut-off valve is in your own home. **Note to readers - learn where the water shut-off valve is in your own homes.

And now I know why they call it "the curse."

Otherwise - it was an uneventful weekend.

Josie thinks that because it's dark out in the mornings now when we're up and at 'em, we should still be sleeping instead of getting ready to go to Betty's house. I wholeheartedly agree.

Eve thinks that 1/2 hour naps are more than sufficient. I wholeheartedly disagree. She just doesn't understand that naps make the world go 'round. Someday, when she has a dreaded 8:00 a.m. class in college, she'll understand the virtues of the nap.