My Husband the Fairy
Awoke this morning to a perfectly clean living room and kitchen. The truly eye-popping portion of the deal is that Seymour, our resident good fairy, was not a contributor to either mess. Perhaps he has started keeping track of my, erm, personal schedule and knows that the next week needs to be extra sugar coated if he is to survive it.
He has also started telling Iz that another name for boogers is "nose poop," in the hope that she'll stop with the excavating.
Leelo seems to be doing better this A.M. Good speech therapy session this morning with his beloved Teacher A. Still no call back from Dr. G, though. Someone must have lost the message, methinks. Now that it is morning and my house is clean I am feeling less condemnatory and know that they would never knowingly overlook a call back to a sick child.
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