Things get dirty quite easily here. When KB and I first married, we lived in a little wooden pier and beam triplex with wooden floors on a dusty road. It was a challenge to keep our home clean and you probably could not convince me it was more difficult elsewhere (I was 24. Let's blame it on youthful arrogance). Here it is a whole different category. Here we deal with types of unsanitary and pollution mess that you would not imagine (to my friends living in more rural places, you have my great respect). However for the persistent housewife, who employees a local woman full-time to help combat this problem, our home stays pretty clean. It literally is a full-time job, well that and making some food : )
In addition to removing shoes worn outside or wearing shoe bags over the shoes, we usually remove our area rug when locals come over. It just decreases the possibility of it getting defiled if a shoe bag breaks. Usually just before guests arrive KB rolls up our living room rug and drags it into our office. Over time the kids have decided riding on the rug while daddy pulls it is the coolest thing ever.
I love the picture below of DB essentially sitting on AB's head. However AB is so excited to ride on the rug that she is willing to endure it.
My special DB. Boys are different than girls. I feel like a girl's range of mischievousness is smaller than a boy's. I am not sure if AB stayed away from such sort of trouble because she was an only child at DB's age, and was thus my center of attention and did not have the opportunity to sneak away or if girls are naturally less inclined to deface themselves. I am not sure.
Anyways. First, DB got a red permanent marker and drew on his new shirt. While I was frantically trying to get the stain out, he used his newly grown height to open the office door, located the same maker and drew on his bare chest (such a chest it is. It is so cute!). I did not know he could open the doors in our apartment. I do now. His drawing almost looks like the character for "small." Kind of appropriate don't you think?
After taking the first picture, I decided to seize the opportunity and document my son's belly. It is like a miniature version of me at 9 months pregnant.
DB: Daddy, everyone is pointing at my belly and laughing at me.
KB: Son. If you did not want to make a spectacle of yourself, you probably should not have drawn red marks all over your bare belly.
DB: I do really like the mark I drew right here. It almost reaches my freckle. If only mommy had not caught me when she did.
KB: I love you, and I am confident you will reach the freckle next time.
