I love Fall, I really do. But what I do not love is cold. Over the past few years I’ve become more and more cold-intolerant. One of the things I hate most in this world (you know, besides the usual REAL things to hate, like famine and war and etc) is getting into a cold bed at night. First-world problem, right? But seriously, it is the worst. So I’ve been like.. seriously head-over-heels for Kyle the past few nights because when I’ve come to bed after him (usually by about 15-20 minutes or so) I find him asleep on my side of the bed so it’s all warm for me. That’s love, you guys.
In other news, we had a visitor the other day that simultaneously thrilled me and freaked me out. I’m not a bug-hater unless it’s a Mormon cricket or a mother of the earth. Or ear wig, because ew. But it’s sort of different when they’re in my house. On my stuff. Being all bug-gy with their spindly legs and antennae and exoskeletons. But the other day Kyle was going in and out of the front door so it was open, and this little guy flew (jumped?) into our house out of nowhere.
Jovi was excited and kept trying to rub noses with it.
After double and triple checking with Kyle that praying mantises (mantii?) aren’t flesh-eating human killers, I gently picked the thing up and carried it to the back door. And dropped it like four times. But those things are springy! It wasn’t my fault. He kept like jumping (or whatever they do?) out of my hands. Finally I mantis-wrangled him out the back door and set him in a plant on the lawn. Jovi was all worried that he was scared and lonely and needed his mommy and insisted on putting a book outside on the deck. You know.. in case he wanted to read about Dora’s Halloween adventure. Kids. 🙂
OK, so later…
Kyle and I were in the kitchen talking when we both stopped and looked at each other.
It’s gotten really quiet in this house. Where’s all the screaming and pants-dropping? What are they doing??
Kyle surmised that they were painting each other again with nail polish.
No way. I already totally threatened them about that and besides, I put the sparkle polish way up high where she can’t reach it.
Sure, I put the sparkle polish away. But not the pink. And pink to Jovi is like sparkly necklaces to Lindsay Lohan.
The nail polish has been deemed contraband and is now under Level Five Security. Which means it’s now in that cupboard in my bathroom along with the fish tank from 2003 and loofahs from who knows when. Sigh.