The creative mischief never ends at our house, and it seems I have two children destined for tattoos in their future. Some might prefer I be more concerned about this, but I just can’t seem to get worked up over a little ink.
It washes off. Usually.
Our Thanksgiving weekend was thankfully free of horror stories. I just heard one that involved three different drama-filled family gatherings & an unmedicated schizophrenic cousin. So yeah. We were drama free and appropriately medicated.
We ate a lot, slept a lot, adventured a lot, and watched tv a lot, and we did it all together, and WE LIKED IT.
That last point is directed at me, who typically feels a tad DONE with the kids after too much togetherness. But even I, selfish grouch that I am, enjoyed four days of family bliss.