It's 8:00 pm on Tuesday, which means wrestling is on tv. Which means my sons are now jumping off fake turnbuckles and accidentally kicking each other in the groin. They are running through the house making fake punching sounds and arguing over who gets to be Rey Mysterio. And, no, Brody is not wearing pants. He is wearing underwear though, so that's good. I just heard furniture being whacked in the living room which means the boys just lost their wrestling privileges for the night.
Soren periodically comes in the den to make a mess or try to break something while I type. The phrase, "I'm gonna put you down while I finish this," is often followed by loud crying until I pick her back up. The girls both have a hacking cough, the same that Brody had last week. No snot or stuffy noses, though.
I spent the day rearranging things in the house and throwing away some junk. I have to do this while Colby's gone because he is a horrible pack rat. I guarantee he'll never even notice that I threw anything away.
Well, another day over. I don't know about you, but I'm ready for bed.
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