My kids have jumped right into the school routine without a hiccup. They have their beds made, teeth brushed, hair combed, clothes on, and dog walked and fed all before breakfast. They are so eager to do school that they'd do anything to be ready.
I, on the other hand, am not a good example. I drag myself out of bed, brush my teeth, mosey on downstairs and get breakfast started.
This morning, after breakfast and before school, I ran upstairs to at least brush out my hair. I noticed that the right side of my hair was sticking out in a very unbecoming way. In order to be more presentable for the little peeps (forget that I was still in my t-shirt and yoga pants from last night), I wet that side of my hair and brushed it down. Downstairs, Jay came to give me a hug and tell me goodbye when he backed up and made a very disgusted face. This is what he asked:
"Is that spit in your hair? Did one of the kids get spit in your hair?"
First of all, I was very pathetic in trying to make myself presentable. Second, why was that his first thought? Why would he think that I had spit in my hair?
Oh yeah. We have 3 kids who have taken over our lives and made things that should be abnormal, normal.
We had a good laugh. I love my life.