Raindrops Keep Fallin' On My Head

It's not that I don't have anything to say. It's just that I don't have anything to write. It rained yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that. Before that. Before that. It didn't rain today. We spent a lot of time playing outside in the incredibly tall grass and doing lots of tick checks. Probably be a lot more fun if I was tick-checking Hugh Jackman. The teen-ager spent today at her first amusement park. She didn't puke so she made me proud.

A couple of days ago some really ancient looking guy came by selling passage on his boat. I was going to book until he found out I wasn't interested in propagating anymore. He rescinded his offer. Kept mumbling something about 'two by two'. Weird.

I can't even look at the weather anymore. I can't be responsible for my reactions if I hear rain anywhere in the immediate (and by immediate, I mean the next few months) forecast.

I also just realized I left the lid off the sandbox all day. And there are neighborhood cats. Can this day get any better?

So it's not bad enough I've been stuck inside how many weeks with a toddler - a very energetic than most, can't stop for a frickin' second toddler - but today, when he's had plenty of fresh air and exercise (he even walked the few miles into town with me today to buy a good set of kitchen tongs), he still managed to soak the freshly made bed in pee (my fault, for not being superhuman in speed with that diaper - how dare I stop to pull that piece of wood out of my foot). Soaked through not one but TWO bedspreads (cuz I'm a freak of nature who is cold even in the Arizona summer weather), both sheets and left a lovely saturation on the not very old mattress. And if Destructo Boy knocks my alarm clock off the table to make room for his cars one more time, I swear to God...

Anyway. It stopped raining. I'm still feeling the effects.