Keep it clean

Last weekend was Isaiah's birthday.  It's a right of passage at his school to spray paint the rock on the front lawn of the school however you want, and highlight your birthday.  Being type A, I signed he (and Ciera) up before school began.  On Isaiah's birthday eve, we packed in the car to defame the rock.
On the way there, Ciera alerted us "I've been thinking that I I'll get married in a field".....great news.  Bob advised she need not worry about that for a long time, and in fact, considering living with Isaiah when you are grown because you love to tell him what to do....to which Isaiah adamantly exclaimed "No way, Jose!".  Can't blame him.  Girlfriend never stops talking and shares it all.
After stepping back from the painted rock, I was quite concerned.  Bob asked me what I thought....The copy read "Isaiah is 8", a very reasonable sentence for the rock.  However, the "8" seemed wrong, in fact, it vaguely resembled a male body part.....I was concerned how to convey this without raising alarms or hurting Bob....quietly, I said "I think it looks a little more anatomical than we'd like".  Bob immediately smiled and totally agreed.  We were cracking up.  We figured if we saw that, it was certain the staff at school would draw the same inference.  We made some silly excuse, quickly painted over the "8", and refined our approach.  Whew.  Close one.
Earlier this week, I was returning home with the kids and we appeared to have a potty emergency.  I raced the car home rather than stop at the gas station....epic fail.  Did I learn nothing from my trip to NJ?   While the child made it to the bathroom, they never truly made it to the toilet.  No problem.  I turn the corner.  One dog has had an accident on the stairs, the other has had one upstairs.  I live in a toilet.  I texted my girlfriends I was going out with that night....."Need wine.  30% of the people and all the dogs in this house have peed in the wrong place today."
And that's real life, unexpected, at our house.

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