Scarlette spends a half an hour every day sitting on our back porch, painting with watercolors. I spend a half an hour every day sitting on our back porch drinking another cup of chai tea and assuring her that yes, that definitely DOES look just like Bob The Tomato. (It looks nothing like Bob The Tomato.) (But it is a circle and that, y’all, is genius.)
At some point when I had my back turned, my tiny little twenty three pound two year old daughter took her plastic paintbrush and jammed it into the slats of the porch. That is where it remains today, because NONE OF US CAN GET IT OUT. Seriously, it’s been there for weeks and every single person who has visited our house in that span of time has been led out the back door, pointed in the direction of the paintbrush, and told to pull.
I like to wait until right before someone has a good grasp on it and then start solemnly quoting The Sword And The Stone to them all except that apparently, no one has ever read that book but me.
(Seriously, it was also a Disney movie. How am I the only one who knows this?!)
Anyhow, the paintbrush is still lodged in my porch. And the obvious thing to assume from all of this is that Princess Kate is most likely currently pregnant with a boy, who will one day come to my house and remove said paintbrush from my porch so that he can resume his rightful place on the throne as the King of England. And that is how I will get to meet Prince William.
Jeff says that probably that is not the case and that it’s not some sort of prophecy at all but something about something about how maybe the porch got wet and made the paintbrush swell. But I think he’s just jealous that his efforts at pulling out the paintbrush proved futile and means that he’s not rightwise King.
