brian's watch over the home fires allowed me, post oliver's morning at camp, to take children to my sister's to burn off some steam. violet was a naked hoot, standing in the pool and dumping water from a cup over her head and face. this from the child who typically screams bloody murder when i try to rinse the shampoo from her head. i even saw her through the little window in the side of the pool putting her face quietly down in the water for a couple of seconds. which kind of freaked me out. it was done a little too quietly, like a child passing out face down in water. she also had these hilarious strawberry-type rashes on her butt cheeks, like she was an artificially-scented action figure from the 80s.
my sister was kind enough to use our remaining minutes there to make peanut patty colored playdough with oliver at his behest. he made some peanut patty colored snakes and it was time to hit the road. we didn't get home until six and then brian darted off to the whole foods while i made macaroni and left over party pizzas. it was somewhere in here that i remembered it was our fucking anniversary. seven years. and we still can't remember it with any regularity. i thought surely after last year's, where we did it properly with a sitter and bar food and drinks and a moonlit walk and everything, that we'd totally manage to keep the love alive and afloat in the sea of birthday waves. i had planned on us going out to dinner with the kids. or, you know, eating separate dinners we threw together in ten minutes or less.