My poor, poor husband was forced, completely against his will, I'm sure, to go to Florida this week. I know, I can feel your sympathy from here. Poor guy had to go to a place where the sun actually makes an appearance. Where the temperature rose above freezing for more that a brief moment. Poor baby.
In an effort to show our greatest sympathy, I promised the kids a campout. No, not outside, have you seen the forcast this week? In the living room! As those of you who have visited can testify, one of the things missing from my home is square footage. The fact that my living room could hold two tents testifies only to our great ingenuity and the glory of small tents. There was just enough room between them for an emergency potty exit, just in case.
And as all campouts must have s'mores, so did ours. The only problem was, we forgot to eat them until the next morning. What's a campout without chocolate and machmallows for breakfast?
I think I feel a Not Me Monday comming on.
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