Quinton's teacher called me yesterday. Thinks I should get his hearing tested, because she has a hard time getting his attention. Are you SERIOUS? The kid inhabits another planet. He only leaves his husk here on the third rock for refueling. Trust me, it's not his hearing. But I did my own little test, here at home–hey, I was an audiology major for several semesters–crude, but telling. He can hear just fine. We just all speak a different language than he does.
Darrin and Anenome (no, that's not her name, we just call her that) left four hours early again last night, so I got to bed by ten. Seven hours of sleep in one shot! I didn't even nod off once during scriptures this morning.
Folded the laundry mountain while the kids took turns reading, and asked everyone to put their own away. So Quinton (almost 7) comes down the hall with a wadded up ball of clothing in his arms. Not a single folded item left. I don't know if he was checking to make sure each shirt and pair of jeans was really his, or what. Why do I bother???
My sister called right after the bus left to tell me there were deer in the neighborhood, just in time for us to look out and see them wandering past. Doe, a deer, two female deer. Right in my front yard. Grandma would say that's not a good thing, but hey, in the 'burbs, people get excited about wildlife.
Got a new fridge today. Harvest gold and older than me, actually. But the not leaking thing, that's new. I had two men in my house, trying to get the "new" fridge through the door, and it wouldn't fit, no matter what they did. I was all for Plan B, which entailed buying a smaller (white and younger than me) fridge, and sending Goldie home with the delivery man, but Marty applied all of his creative genius to the problem and now she is moaning and groaning in the place of honor as we speak.
We also got a new washer and dryer. New as in–front loading, steam cycle on the dryer (think Quinton's balled up clothing on Sunday morning), holds a kingsized comforter–new. We were going to keep the old ones and find them a new home, but the haul-the-leaky-fridge-off guy informed me that blackish-yellow goo that has been oozing all over my toes for the past year and a half, that's transmission fluid. Transmission fluid? Did you know your washing machine has a transmission? And apparently it has enough fluid in there to keep up a steady leak for a good eighteen months.
Only seven kids again today, five asleep and two already gone. I could get used to this …
Headed out to Mirra's funeral this evening. I don't even want to know what it says about me that my first date with my husband in three months is a funeral, but I am looking forward to it.