Let's Call it a Week


This morning I woke up and told The Chief the big news.

"Just you and me today, Chief-o."

I thought the announcement of a no mother-sharing, toy-snatching, nap-interrupting day would cause freedom to reverberate in his little chest. The Chief a la William Wallace, FREEDOM!

But instead he looked at me as though he wasn't sure what we were going to do all day long. As if our normal life was too mundane to go back to. As if, I (how could this be?) was a boring mother.

Around morning nap time I made the executive decision to go down as well. If motherhood's luxuries don't include napping when your monkey naps, then I don't know what else to look for in the future.

Our morning slumber was going exceptionally well, in fact we were rounding out a nice two hours, when I heard scuffling in the kitchen downstairs.

Then,

"Hello?"

I knew that voice as well as the hum of my own dishwasher. It was Ollie.

"Hello?"

It was getting closer.

Nap interrupted.

The Chief woke up to see his once-upon-a-time brother at the foot of the bed.

The Chief rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

Hot dang, we had visitors again!

Ollie came accompanied by Umi The Councilwoman, Gigs the Muscle Man and our favorite dog Nan. It was a grade-A, genuine party:













And only one of these:



(But heavens, you know it wasn't Gigs's fault. His face pleads innocence.)

This ends a hefty week of visits from little people. We are lucky to have so many around to share our afternoons. Though we like the quiet days, we welcome the noisy ones too.

And now, we're off for second naps.

Visiting time over.




(Can you tell we are spicing things up at Retro House? Tour to come soon!)




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