And Sometimes There Are Words...

... To decribe being a parent.

Pure Sweetness.

I'm trying to bleach my house (I like to bleach my house, it makes me happy and feel all clean and productive. I also love the smell of bleach. Mmm.... Mr. Pretties hates this habit) but as anyone with kids knows, as soon as I'm cleaning one room another room is being ripped apart. Kind of a lost cause really. So while BLP and LLP are sabotaging my living room LBP is in my room wailing away. He doesn't like not having my complete undivided attention for more than 30 seconds at a time. He gets pretty peeved about this.

So in an attempt to stop the sabotaging and the wailing I asked BLP to keep LBP on her bed and just talking to him. He's happy as long as he has someone's 100% attention. BLP loves playing with him so we were good to go.

As I'm cleaning the bathroom I hear BLP 'LBP, you want hear stowie? Okway, you just way wight daiw. Okay. Dis a sewcle, dis a skare, dis a ty-angle, dis an obal - wike an egg. Dis wellow, dis wed, dis owange, dis pewple...' while laying beside him showing him the pictures. I'm not sure whether it was this picture of adorableness or the bleach that was making my eyes water, but I'm going to go with the adorableness. It kind of makes up for the times when they do 500 horrific things and a row making me want to run away from home.

The only annoyance I have now is that Mr. Pretties has still not retrieved my camera from wherever god-for-saken place he put it, thus, I could not capture this rare moment of good behaviour for future cherishing. This alone is almost unforgiveable. That, and the other moms on babycenter think I'm 32. Not. Even. Close. Ouch... I told Mr. Pretties I was starting to age unkindly... Oil of Olay and Botox here I come...