Sunday, July 22, 2007

It was a house.

It was a jail.

With just a small opening, that even my 23 year old hips could squeeze through.

That settled it. They had to make it smaller.

I kept getting in.

Grownups - OUT.

Finally, they put the last piece in....and were left with four walls.

Four kids. One house made of connectors. One nanny.

On the outside where she belongs ;)

1 comment:

Lynn Baumert said...

They should build towers for their matchbox cars to crash. That's what you, Em and Andre used to do on the kitchen floor as I was preparing dinner. I could just reach down and get a can or box of something I needed for the meal.