Playing fast and loose with the child labor laws

I employed some help this weekend.

She came pretty cheap. At least in the short run. I hear murmurings of college and graduate school and wedding, but I just brush them off.

She was a little fussy. She kept telling me her gloves were getting dirty. I kept telling her not to touch her face with them and she would probably feel better about life.

Sunday was seed starting day in these parts. It was a tad late—I had planned to start everything about 10 days ago, but then handily remembered that I was going to be gone for a conference that started on Thursday. There is one cardinal rule of gardening over here: David is not to be trusted with the seedlings. The children? Yes. Great. The dad report card is solid.

fun: A+

feeding: A+

sleeping: A+

candy intake: B-

hairstyling: let’s be kind and go with pass/fail here…so…pass

But the point is I waited until I was back in town.

It was the most gorgeous day so we got to seed outside this year. This was handy as it was Bitty E’s first year to really help with everything…well, most everything, until she lost interest. Someday she will hang the whole time. I’m trying to remember…trending upward.

My seed sowing habits have me questioning whether or not I have a leaning toward addictive behaviors. Because really, how much Adele can one person listen to? how many seeds can one person plant? Yesterday’s answer: a heck of a lot.

Mama’s home to take care of you now, babies. So let me help you get those pigtails nice and tall and keep the Sour Patch Kid consumption to a minimum.