I did not blog yesterday because things that are in me usually are not witty or silly or funny, I am really a serious person and too deep for the peons of this earth.
Ha. Ha. In all honesty, the above statement is only half true and I am feeling somewhat empty of laughable incidents. Quite frankly, I read Emma's blog, thought I would get a 100% on her little spelling test, and was crushed when I got an 87%, therefore resulting in a recurring dream of trying to get to class in high school and lo, they shut the doors on me. I never realized that I spelled some words incorrectly, my only hope is maybe I really don't and it was an "off" day. Gee whiz, I am in for it now. I just sit here now waiting ever so humbly for my year of forty to approach because good grief, I won't CARE if I spell things wrong or not, look fat in my jeans, wear slippers to the library, you get me. Every one of my friends who are forty and above have this I am woman, hear me roar sort of state and I would like to tap into it.
Can you absolutely tell that nothing is going on? I sort of just let school out without totally finishing books (gasp---yes, that is HUGE for me). The kids have been doing the summer reading program and I figured if they do that (it is hours of reading a day) they are doing pretty darn well. I must sneak in some math from time to time though. Not that any of you give a rip about that anyway though. The Girl took the picture above and I was cracking up at her face. She said that she just "widered" up her eyes and it looked funny. I look like a woman that can't spell "necessary."
Eraser Eater is back to his old trick of whining again. Result: a mind that is lost.
The Girl is back to her old "wreck her room" ways. Result: a mind that is lost.
The Oldest is doing pretty well but mowed the lawn on Sunday all by himself! Result: a mind that is lost. I woke up from a nap on Sunday to hear the lawn mower going and looked out the window. The boy was pushing that thing like he knew all about it all and I almost cried. He has now mowed the lawn more than I ever have in my life. I have slaughtered small animals, but I have not mowed a lawn. I suppose that I will never have to as long as I have the boys around and Dear Sir. When the boys are gone and Dear Sir is old and unable to move and I am hand feeding him, I hope that I can hire the lawn boy down the street to do the honors. I imagine that Dear Sir will moan and groan through the window for the boy to make it look like a golf course.
"Mom, I'm really craving bread this morning. Do you have any of that chocolate bread left?" The Oldest pleads.
"No, I don't. I didn't like it anyway."
"I am really craving some bread," he sighs.
"Too bad. Make yourself some toast. When I was your age I was always making my own breakfast. Not that you have to, but I did."
"I make my own lunch ALL the time," he hollers, "somehow you always get busy then and I am so starving I have to make my own peanut butter crackers!"
"That is because I hate making lunch," I say.
"You do? Huh. Well, I can make my own lunch if that is what you want, but I ain't making lunch for anybody else. Their lives are up to you."
He is now making his own toast, complaining that we perhaps need to purchase a new toaster because it does not pop up toast quick enough. And don't you love his use of "ain't"? I should not have allowed him to read Huck Finn. Changed his life. In our kinda homeschool, we ain't got no fake learnin'. Just real kind and it shows.