This weekend, for my anniversary, my mom has all 3 kids, and we have gotten rid of my brother-in-law. So Pat and I have the house to ourselves. We have big plans!
Sleep.
Well, no. I mean yes, but no. I’ll probably play Magic the Gathering with him. Maybe I can talk him into a board game or a movie. We’re broke but we don’t need to go anywhere.
I am going to use some quiet time to write. And I have a pile of books to finish. Our house is never quiet so I’m just going to enjoy it. With my husband of 12 years.
Quote of the week:
This ramble brought to you my 11-year-old, Thomas.
A button! I want to push the button! I like pushing buttons! They are fun! Except dad’s buttons. Those aren’t fun to push. … Or yours. Those buttons aren’t fun either.
In closing, this realization:
I currently have more library books, then some people own total. And that saddens me. I don’t understand people who don’t read. I don’t understand people who don’t own any books at all. I’m not saying you have to have hundreds of books. Not even dozens. I understand owning just your favorites and borrowing the rest. I don’t understand not having favorites. How can you not have a favorite book?