The Pats lost the Superbowl last night.
This morning Henry received a potty book in the mail.
It's already a crappy week.
HAHHHAAHAAHAHHAHAAA!
*wipes tear from eye*
Oh the wit!
My kid hasn't had a bath since Thursday night. He was supposed to have one Saturday (he's got dry skin so we give him a bath every other night in the winter), but Dave and I were feeling lazy and very much inclined to put it off until Sunday. By the time we realized Sunday probably wasn't going to be a good night for a bath what with the Superbowl on the tv and friends and family over to watch, everything was in full swing. By the time the game was over, it was pretty late, and by the time we wrangled Henry upstairs for bed it was somewhere around 10 o'clock. By the time I got close wrapping up this paragraph I realized this is just a long-winded way of saying I'm going to go upstairs right now, wake Henry up from his nap, and give him a bath because wow, does he ever need one.