This morning I'm working on laundry (downstairs) and Ian comes RUNNING to the top of the stairs yelling, "Chew-wee-ann, Quaire needs your help!" (Juliann, Claire needs your help)
I run my sore body up and into Claire's room and ask what is wrong and Claire says, "Mom, I REALLY need a pencil!"
Ahh yes. A TRUE emergency.
2 comments:
and then did you tell them the story of the little boy who cried "wolf"...
ha ha chew-wee-ann! I love it when my daughter calls me spring. (Can you hear the sarcasm in my voice?)
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