Although it only snowed about 2 cm last night (that's right, I'm going metric today), our schools are canceled, which means Hatchling's playschool is also canceled. What's a mommy to do? And how does the school system expect me to explain to a very excited four year old that while there is too much snow for school, there is not enough snow to make a snowman? Or even proper snow angels. Or snowballs. Oh, the drama. It's a good thing Hatchling is a boy, cause the little bit of testosterone coursing through his body is the only thing between him and a 5-star meltdown, diva style.
I took these pics a few weeks ago, when Hatchling returned from playschool in his used-to-be-white shirt. Strangely, no artwork accompanied his triumphal return home.
That's paint all over his shirt, in case you lack the mommy senses to evaluate stains in a single glance. I was horrified. I mean, yeah, white shirts and little boys don't mix. In my defense, people are always buying him outfits that need a white shirt to go with them (the one in the pics includes a jacket that he apparently shed just before , in his words, "taking paint brushes and koonting** them in the paint").
I almost threw the shirt away before washing it, but my cheapness prevailed. I figured if I could fade the stains, it would still be ok to wear under things. To my astonishment, after a treatment with the Oxi Clean spray on stuff, it came out looking new. I mean you would think I bought a new shirt clean. Amazing. I should be in commercials, no?**Koont: v. This is a word which, to my knowledge, exists only in Hatchling's vocabulary. It means to hit, explode, kill, or otherwise cause destruction. It is usually accompanied by a throat/nasal sound that sounds like phlegm being gathered to be spit out, and is guaranteed to make my blood pressure skyrocket. When they have to cart me off to the loony bin, you will all know it was the combination of this sound and the Buzz Lightyear gun that did me in.