(Gasp! I'm actually posting something to my long-lost blog!)
Last night, as the evening was winding down, our daughter set off to get creating, one of her favorite things to do. She absolutely loves drawing cards for us, and her little creations are some of my favorite treasures right now.
After a while, she brought two cards into our bedroom to show me.
Here's the first.
That would be her daddy, my husband, stretched out on the living room floor, in his black running shorts and a green shirt, his glasses on, a little facial hair growing in, with a pillow tucked under his head, his right arm stretched out before him holding a remote control and our remaining remote controls placed side-by-side within reach.
It's a pretty darn accurate drawing, I must say. She doesn't miss any details.
And then, several minutes later, she brought me a second drawing. This time, it was of me.
And that would be me standing by our black, metal, short-post bed in our bedroom, with a huge pile of laundry in a laundry basket to my left, the TV perched atop our dresser in the top left corner, my nightstand with lamp and alarm clock and weather radio at top right and me folding my bluish-purple pajamas in the center.
Dead on.
I love her artwork.
But what's extra funny about these pictures is how Chad and I are portrayed: Daddy watching TV while Mommy does the housework. Honestly, it's not always the way it is around here. Chad definitely pulls his weight, and we share housework and most responsibilities, besides cooking. But he wins in that corner; he cooks dinner almost every night. Still, it's funny to me just the same.
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