Tonight Lucy said "we go to parties all the time - let's do the space projector." She got a National Geographic space thingy for her birthday and has been itching to use it. Still... miss a party? What's gotten into her?
So we stayed home and set up the projector. And within minutes both kids were crying and hiding their faces. Studley left the room and chose to cry in the livingroom instead. Who knew a planet projected onto a ceiling could be so completely terrifying? I did what anyone would do with kids who are out of their mind with fear. I put them to bed.
Perhaps they'll have nightmares about whether or not Pluto is a planet.
And then I went to the party (once my friend stopped by to babysit. What do you take me for?). I was a little hesitant to go because I had my hair cut recently and it's not so good when it curls up. When it curls it makes me look like Bobby Brady. I mentioned this to someone at the party and she set me straight. "No, that's Peter. Bobby's hair was straighter."
So I came home to watch the Red Sox. After all, apparently we go to parties all the time.