Dirt

Like a moth to flame, my boys cannot resist a good puddle. Until recently, I thought that was a boy thing... but Ellie has proven that theory wrong, and then some. She's the messiest child, even more so than her brothers. It's amazing how dirty she can get. And how much dirt she can drag into the house with her.

All of this dirt is getting me down. It feels like I'm in a constant state of wiping/washing/sweeping/vacuuming. It wouldn't be so bad, but it doesn't feel like I make any progress. Why is that? How can it be that things are in a constant state of crumb-strewn-ness?

All of the little people are tucked into bed. The laundry is nearly done and the crumbs are cleared, for now... somehow, when I rise in the morning, there will be more of both. I'm not sure who among the little people is taking the night shift... but my bet's on Benett.