Not MY house anymore....

Before I get into my topic anymore...dinner last night was stir fry, with questionable mushrooms. I mean, they were slimy a bit, not that I picked them myself out yonder. Thanks for your concern!


Now then:
Since we've had our two kids, there have been a couple instances when it really sinks in that this is OUR house, not MINE. Or Aaron's, for that matter. Things happen that I'm rather confident neither of us did. It's like a fairy visits for a moment then disappears, because the culprit is nowhere near the scene. And these are not really NAUGHTY moments, either.

For instance:
Can you see that? That is a Pooh bear laying on the handle under our kitchen sink. How did it get there? Fairies, I believe.

Or the other distinct visit from fairies, which happened coincidentally just when Leah was old enough for me to leave her in the family room downstairs unattended. On this occasion, I was trying to fit a book in its drawer, where USUALLY it would fit just fine. This time it didn't. I thought, "something must be back there..." and proceeded to pull out a stuffed puppy. A PUPPY. Why? Fairies.