I am just sitting here, feeding my pet mosquitoes. They love me. Some people around here leave containers and plant saucers out in the yard to collect water, so that the mosquitoes will feel more at home. They breed like mad every chance they get, and then come and spread their diseases happily around the household. Usually, we don't have many mosquitoes, because we have thousands of bats and little frogs with big voices who can each eat their weight in mosquitoes every night. But it has been so rainy lately that even the frogs are too depressed to come out. They are all curled up in their bromeliads going "Not Hungry! Go away!"
I am filled with joy, because my Christmas tree is THE MOST beautiful in the whole world. No, really!
Every decoration is special, and if a few are a little weird, there is a story behind their weirdness. The cat, formerly of tree-climbing-and-destruction fame, is enchanted by the lights and pretty decorations, and no longer feels the need to climb the tree. (she also hates the smell of citrus cleaner and peelings.) she is sitting on the chessboard, knocking pieces over because I forgot to buy cat chow. Hey! I can borrow a bag of Sharon's cat chow, and replace it when I go to the grocery! Hi Shar! Hope Canada is treating you guys well! Your pets are not missing you at all. Ungrateful beasts. I miss you though... : (
Today was the last day of school and work, and all went well. The boys are packed with candy-cane flavoured sugar and red food colouring. We are all really tired from late nights, but it is a happy tired. Tonight I will put the boys to bed VERY early, it is nice and rainy for that. We are reading "the trumpet of the swan" by E. B. White, which is a beautiful story so far. I have been hiding it between readings, to prevent the big boys from reading ahead. We haven't read a book together for months, because Chas and Sam are so voracious that they read ahead and I just end up reading to Max. That's not a bad thing, but I love it when we all get into bed with a nice book and a snuggle. Especially on rainy nights.
Max and I had a nice mummy/boy time this afternoon. He came in weeping with rage because his brothers are horrible nasty meanies, and I offered him a cup of hot chocolate and a game of chess. We really got into it, and said "Aha! NOW I see your evil plot!!" and "Give up now, young jedi, you cannot escape the dark side!!"
Whenever Max ate one of my men, he had to come around the coffee table, grinning maniacally and chuckling like the squirrel with all the nuts. But in his eyes I could see an apology, and he has to kiss me sweetly before going back to plotting world chess domination. He has no killer instinct, that boy. He won, of course. I wasn't going to let him win, but he surprised me with a sly castle move while I was looking at his knight and queen. I said "check!" and he said "HA!" and pulverized me with a flourish and a victory dance of joy.
Hey, I can beat my six-year-old at chess anytime. Really. I just need some sleep first! MY killer instinct is alive and well.