Nannying is rough. Three cheers for never having kids of my own.
Here I am in cluttered attic (where my bed is) using a high chair for a nightstand. I am feasting on a dinner of Cheerios and dreading my 6 am wakeup call that will consist of Dorothy’s cries. Welcome to my life for the next ten days
They made maps in the bedsheets
and planned their life in the comforters.
They painted their ceiling with fireflies
and built their house on lessons learned.
Get on my level.
It’s chill though. We splinted it. Survivor Man Style.