My 10-year-old daughter and 8-year-old son assembled a homemade tent to sleep in. The materials included several bed coverings of various sizes, plus my snow-white blanket I had freshly laundered but not yet folded, a curtain rod extension, four flimsy fold-out chairs and one solid one, and a broken-zippered sleeping bag which is now only good as a pallet base. How they pulled this together without their dad or me knowing is a mystery because let me tell ya — its construction was involved.
When they awaken, I have to get their permission to post a pic of the remains of the tent.
Huh? How are they still asleep at 12 noon?
Well, I’m guessing they are still asleep at almost noon due to their consistently going to bed at an ungodly hour, and I suspect that’s happening because I’ve simply outgrown parenting.
But who’s to say, really?
I can tell that their dad/my husband, AKA the fun parent, is about to put his foot down, though. Each day when he comes home and I boast about how late they slept, he just blank stares me, and then resolutely says to them, “You don’t have any business sleeping until noon unless you got off work at 10 o’clock in the morning. And the last time I checked my notes, *checks notes again* yes, I pay allllllll the bills around here,” and I just love him for that.
But while his size 13EEE remains aloft, at 9PM MST, I’ll close out my eating window with this bottle of electrolyte water, a keto-friendly treat of nuts, berries, and Monterey Jack cheese chunks, and giggle at Shawn Harrison in Family Matters and his underrated yet hilarious portrayal of Waldo Geraldo Faldo.