Snapshot of the Quistilton Household, 12:06 pm

I am washing the French Press in the bathroom sink. Why? Because there are 36 clean, but soap-saturated cloth diapers in the kitchen sink. I am washing the French Press because I was awake from 1 until 5 this morning, after falling asleep with the Wee One at 8 last night, and I either need to drink more coffee or prop my eyelids open with toothpicks. I can’t find the toothpicks.

The Biggie is playing “School” with remnants of a piece of multigrain bread. “See, Mama, these crumbs are the students and the sesame seed is a teacher!” This is because we are cruel parents and don’t allow her to have real toys. The nine-and-a-half foot tall tree (which blocks out 50% of the natural light coming into the house) is listing to one side, after I stripped three broken light strands off it this morning. (Have you ever taken lights off an already-decorated tree?) The washing machine is continuously washing, mysteriously not draining soapsuds (see first sentence of blog).