One of my favorite things about having kids is the crazy shit they say. I love when people fall down, and I love when people say craziness. Even at 5 and 7, Jake and Landen say some of the funniest things. I'm inspired to write this because today, my office mate brought her son to work (Lundi Gras, skeleton crew) and he's three, nearing four. A new thing he picked up is apparently saying "are you sure?" when you tell him something. So she instructs him to tell me what they say they don't like at their house, and he tells me that "we don't play games and we don't have shenanigans at bed time." I always get excited on our weeks because I know Jake is going to say some genius shit and Landen is going to say some hilariously evil shit (one weekend it was, in fact, shit.)
This week is our week, and it's a big one. Wednesday night we have church with the whole family for Ash Wednesday at Jake and Landen's school. Thursday morning is Landen's sixth birthday, so we're waking him up with a cake and a banner and a button that says he's the birthday boy. I asked Landen what he wanted to do for his birthday this year, and he said he just wanted to stay at the top of the Marriott. (Where our apartment is, the terrain and the buildings are really flat, except for the Marriott, which sits right new to the interstate and is about 15 stories high. Jake and Landen are fascinated with it--it's one of their landmarks.)
So for Friday night, I've booked a room for the highest floor that has the regular rooms with the regular rates (a six-year-old doesn't need a penthouse birthday) and we're going to open his presents and eat more of his cake and get room service for $5 french fries and $3 glasses of milk and watch a $12 PPV movie and look out the window a whole lot.
And this weekend we get one day with Dixie, so Mommy will have to administer some of her prescribed anti-anxiety medication to her doodlebug Lily, who will be invaded by the boys and the dog at the same time.
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