Preparations for our almost 4 year Monkey are in full swing.
There are balloons covering the living room floor. Crap from the dollar store all over the kitchen counters. Birthday cereal is in the pantry. And in the spirit of full disclosure, I am sitting here in my chair by the living room window all decked out in a pink flowery butterflied heart emblazoned pointy party hat. You need to test these things out and make sure they fit. AND LEAVE IT ON. According to the 4 year old minus one day birthday girl, anyways.
(Yes. Murphy's Law being what it is, the DINKS from next door just walked by the window. I didn't wave.)
I found myself a tad melancholy today as I realized that our family is no longer going to have a 3 year old. I love three year olds. It's one of my favourite ages. Still innocent but toilet trained and independent with so many things. And not too much lip.
The Monkey was our holy crap surprise child and I've loved 96% of these years with her in our lives. But tomorrow she turns 4.
And I know what's coming.
Did I mention the attitude?
In the midst of today's melancholy, I asked The Monkey what we should write on her birthday cake tomorrow.
"Hmmmmm.....how 'bout......Gimme my presents!!!"
And then I bought beer.
Time to End Presidential Press Briefings?
9 hours ago