I love our neighborhood. And I love to go on walks in our neighborhood with my family. Carson and Sisi are big enough now that they walk the dogs, Blair pushes Cali's stroller, and I get to just walk. It's lovely.
But today, whether because of sleep deprivation or overdose of caffeine, my usually silent husband had me in stitches. It started as we watched Carson and Sisi racing the dogs (with their short little legs...the dogs. Not Sisi and Carson. Well, not Sisi. Carson still runs like a baby giraffe) down the sidewalk. "Look out for the wall!" Blair yelled as they all came dangerously close to smashing right into the neighbor's retaining wall. He looked at me with a grimace and said, "I bet you never thought I'd have to say that to all of our kids, did you?" I burst out laughing.
Seconds later, he yells, "Watch out for the car! No no, the PARKED car!" Sisi had to swerve at the last second to avoid the large black car sitting right in front of her. (Note-This car has been parked there for...umm...years.)
And then to Chuka, "Get out of the road, you dingbat!" (Chuka, in case you were wondering, is our dog, not one of our children. He is so named because he looks like an Ewok with his little squished face.)
"Dad, what way do we go?" Sisi asked.
"Left."
"Chuka, go left!"
"Sisi! You don't even know which way is left! Chuka doesn't know left!"
