Anna has the disease we've all been passing around. Anna can be very dramatic when she is ill, clutching her throat, moaning, languishing all over my new, flowery, overstuffed armchair. We should have thought to buy her one of those Ektorp fainting couches while we were at IKEA.
That leaves only Larry and Brian untouched by this plague. We assume Larry will get it while he is chaperoning the homeschoolers' ski trip later this week. At which point he will understand just how much I suffered. Not that I am wishing it on him, or anything.
Meanwhile, as long as he is healthy, Larry has been painting like one possessed. It may be because today I handed out invitations to our 45 neighbors for a little party at our house on New Year's Day. He works well when properly motivated.
Unfortunately, I don't know how to throw a party that doesn't involve birthday candles and goody bags. I'm not quite sure how I am going to pull this off. It was challenging enough to print out the invitations.
This place is trashed, in a Christmas-y sort of way. Gaudy crap everywhere, opened presents strewn all over the floor, broken bits of candy cane wherever you turn....and it doesn't help that half our furniture is displaced by the painting-in-progress. Oh, and the hall closet door that we fixed last month? The kids managed to rip it off its track again. Why bother replacing it? I'll just prop a piece of plywood in front of our incredibly messy closet and paint it white.
You know, if there were a reality show that had families of kids competing to see who could wreck a house fastest, I think we'd have a good chance of making it to the finals.
I hear Anna moaning again. I better go check.