Of Southern Drawls and Garage Sales

It seems that someone has been subtly influencing my two-and-a-half year old. Or perhaps someone has cloned him and replaced the original child with an identical duplicate.

A child with a Southern accent.

Very recently we started to notice some interesting verbal trends. He is dropping his r's and adding unnecessary syllables to certain words. For example, over there has become "ova they-uh." Snack is now "snay-uck." And bath is either "bay-uff," or a whopping "bay-ay-uff," if we're lucky enough to hear it.



If you are reading this and happen to live somewhere below the Mason-Dixon line and see my sweet boy wandering the streets, would you send him back to us?

But if not, this one is pretty cute and I suppose we'll keep him.

On another note, we are entering garage sale season, and I could not be more thrilled. I love the hunt and the bartering and the victory of finding a great deal.

But this year I'm switching things up and I'm going to be the seller. Since my children have entered a lovely phase of sibling squabbles, I've decided to sell everything they have. They fight over the same object so many times throughout the day that I lose track. And nearly lose my mind.

Sometimes it's a bouncy ball. Other times it's a book. Or a toy car. Or a pencil. Or a-- you get the point.

So I've decided to sell the playroom. All of it. Okay, I might keep the carpet and light fixtures, but everything else must go.

Except for one toy.

I haven't decided which one yet, but since they always want the very same thing at the very same time, what's the point in keeping all the rest of it? It's just more for me to have to dust.

Think it will work? No, I don't either.

*sigh*

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some dusting to do and a silly little boy who needs a bay-uff.