But Bryce will probably disconnect our phone.
{Not that any of you ever called me.
Totally not taking that personally.
I mean, just because I’ve shared years of life experiences with you, I’m pretty sure .01% have actually called me at home….not offended at all.}
Because Libby accidentally called someone.
You know?
Libby?
The 18 month old that gets into everything forcing my counter space to taken up with every type of stool we own just to keep her out of scissors, gas stoves, toothbrushes and knives?
And the guy who she accidentally called felt it completely necessary and within his rights to call me back.
And leave a cruel message.
About what a terrible mother I am for allowing my child to call someone.
And what if that person she had called was driving in the car and had been distracted by the phone ringing?
Or what if that person was elderly and had difficulty moving and was trying to get to the phone?
And then he said I was a few choice words.
Words I hadn’t heard since I was in high school.
And hung up.
{Now I’m not trying to tell this guy how to live his life, but maybe he should be more concerned about global warming, the presidential race, the refugee problem, that there’s no cure for cancer, the state of our foster care system, the legalization of marijuana, that not enough people are spaying and neutering their pets, that people insist on casting Ben Affleck in movies, that the BBC will not longer be broadcasting The Great British Baking Show, or the lack of honey bees….
not a mom who has chosen to stay at home and raise six well adjusted children {sometimes even Spencer falls into this category} and has a weakness for Double Stuf Oreos and boots.}
It kind of hurt my feelings.
This guy doesn’t even know me.
It sure is easy to be mean to someone you’ll never meet.
And see?
She was completely supervised.
I knew she was playing with the phone….geez.
So, to make myself feel better, I painted my piano.
Poor Bryce.
She’s not dressed up, I’m waiting for the paint to be nice and hard because I don’t want to put a protective finish on her.
Pleased as punch with how she turned out.
I don’t know how Bryce feels.
Too afraid to ask.
I’m going to recover the bench and am open to suggestions for fabric choices.
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Anyway, in other photos this week:
Putting shoes on.
It usually goes: shoes on, shoes off, shoes on, shoes off, shoes on, shoes off, shoes on, shoes off…..shoes on!
I’m sure you’re having a great week.
And that no random, rude stranger has called you, but if that happens, paint something for me.
Katie