Noah doesn't go back to school until next Tuesday. SeeyooooNextTuesday, is how I feel about that, especially since we received a good dozen letters stating that the first day was August 30, TODAY, before we got a letter saying that haaaaa, suckers, the preschool students start a week later. You were punked! Hope you weren't doing some kind of calendar countdown with your stir-crazy kid or anything.
We attended the school's open house on Friday, even though Noah will be in the same classroom with the same teachers and most of the same kids, but hot damn, that was a good hour of SCHOOL-LIKE ACTIVITIES in a spot that was NOT OUR HOUSE, so we were going and we were going to enjoy every damn minute of it.
And we did! Until we all got sick, thanks to our glorious reintroduction to community toys and community germs. I spent most of the weekend complaining about "allergies" until I woke up this morning like: Oh. Not allergies. Plague and pestilence, more like it.
The previous three paragraphs were brought to you by Advil Cold & Sinus. Not like, sponsored post money brought-to-you-by, but like, my head is stuffed with cotton balls that were possibly soaked in a little booze before someone mashed them into my ears brought-to-you-by. Yes. That kind.
Mmm. Boozy cotton balls. That's actually kind of intriguing. I shall write it down on my list of Terrific Ideas I Came Up With While Drunk Or Medicated. Right under Swiffer duster suits for cats (double-sided) and building a burrito-sized pneumatic tube between my house and Chipotle.
In other news, here are some photos of my son eating his dip-dips, better known to grown-ups who do not talk like high-pitched toddler-like idiots all the time as chips and salsa.
I know. That wasn't really all that exciting. But after you've spent a few years with one child who demands that his food look and/or taste no more daring than Elmer's glue, this new one is still kind of a novelty.