Last night the Dancer had an unfortunate run-in with a door.
She lost.
And I won't waste my breathe telling you how I had been pleading, begging and demanding that my children stop running and wrestling in the house.
I won't bother about the fact that I had just lowered myself up to my ears in a hot bath.
Or how I threatened their lives if they played tag in my bathroom one more time.
And I'm not going to bore you with how I had to jump out of said bath, grab my robe and run to the scene of the crime only to find the perfect imprint of a screw embedded in my daughter's face.
And I do mean perfect.
I could tell you what size phillips screwdriver the thing took.
Nobody listens to mom (WHY doesn't anyone listen to mom?!!)
Apparently she bit it right on the hinge of the Cowgirl's bedroom door.
Today she is pretty proud of it.
And they are still rough housing....
And today- I took two baths.
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