This is what I was writing last night, but there was a problem with Blogger, so I couldn't publish it...
I’m sitting here sipping a large diet coke from McDonald’s. They now have any size of pop on for $1.00. There’s just something about fountain pop that hits the spot. I went through the drive-thru this evening and ordered two. When I got to the pick-up window, he only gave me medium. I said no, I want the big ones. It’s good to be Mennonite.
Jorja had some wicked gas this evening. She was letting them rip left, right and center. She has been going to bed once Ginny is asleep lately (it seems to work better than at the same time), and I usually carry her up. For such a little person, she is a very noisy stepper. Anyway, I not sooner get her picked up and put my arm under her bum than she lets this big, loud, long ripper go. Right on my arm. And stinky. Boy, did she think she was pretty funny.
We had a bit of a scare today. CeCe was laying on the floor playing with her little ‘gym’ thing (there’s toys over her head she can bat at and chew on). Ginny was walking and tripped and fell on her arm/shoulder area. I’ve never heard CeCe cry like that before – she was definitely in pain. Then Ginny started wailing because CeCe was crying. Eventually everyone calmed down, and CeCe seems to be all right. It’s a good thing they’re made of rubber when they’re young.
Jorja has been on this kick the last couple of days. Maybe it started yesterday. She said, “Dad, I’m going to live here forever when I’m big. I just love it so much.” Say what? I try to explain how things work, but she’s not going for it. She even told Julie that she would have to share her clothes when she grew up. I wish I could have taped that for when she is a teenager. Then we’ll see how long she wants to live here. Later.