Today was a washout. Literally.
I woke to the sound of driving rain and wind. Shut inside with two tired children and a husband who was up to his neck in a mountain of laundry, I decided to paint the bathroom. It was in desperate need of a fresh coat as the walls were covered in streaks- a result of my six year old's penchant for long, hot showers. We used to think he just liked to be extra clean, then we found out what he's really been up to in there. Hockey. Apparently my father's stool makes a great net and the back brush serves as a hockey stick. We'd been hearing cheering, "He shoots, he scores!" and peeked in just in time to watch the bar of Dove sail cleanly into the top right corner of the net.
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