I'm pretty sure it's never going to stop raining. Samson and I will never leave the house again, and we will both eventually go crazy and do something awful like shave the cat.
It's been a hell of the weekend. I totally jumped the gun and put Samson to bed at 6 tonight, about an hour before his regular bedtime, but I just COULDN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE. I needed him to be doing something that didn't require my involvement, and sleeping is about the only thing on that list right now. So he's been down there, talking to himself in protest, and I know the talking will escalate to a complaint, then to a yell, then to a scream...any. minute. now.
I can just picture him running his pacifier along the crib bars like in some old prison movie. Rat-a-tat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat.
Oh, all right. It's not all bad. During one of the few five minute breaks in the rain, we went out to the backyard to blow bubbles (bub-oh, so damn cute he is), and Samson totally discovered puddles and how jumping and splashing in them is totally the most fun thing ever. That was awesome.
But the rest of it sucked.
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