TGIF

It's the end of the week. Thank goodness.

Nate's boss and a coworker, both in town from Delaware, came over for dinner a few nights ago. It was very fun; the kids provided some light entertainment.

The evening ended with Viggo showing Mr. Kay and Mr. John his staples, a treasure from when he hit his head on the radiator in Delaware and spent a long evening in the ER (please note that the nurse put them in a urine cup for safekeeping); and with Elin grabbing her bottom and saying, "stinky".

Upon leaving, Nate's boss, who does not have children, said in his delightful German accent, "We do zis again next time I come zen, yes?"

Then we've had this little ongoing problem.

Svea has lost seven toothbrushes in about four weeks. We don't know where she puts them or how they get lost; they literally just disappear. To try to teach her a lesson, we let her go toothbrushless for a day or so (more punishment for us than her, I think), and then give her another one. I would even monitor her toothbrushing to make sure that yes, she put her toothbrush back in the jar after brushing.

They would just . . . be gone. We checked everywhere - under the beds, in drawers, in toys, in the kitchen, in the other bathroom downstairs, the garbage.

Never found them.

Someday we're going to find a giant stash of toothbrushes in some random location.

So, big surprise, I had run out of toothbrushes. In desperation I sanitized one of Viggo's toothbrushes and tied a big ribbon around it. So far it hasn't been misplaced . . . tonight Svea even told me, "Mom! My toothbwush is still there! I haven't wost it yet! Are you so pwoud of me?"

Last night just for kicks Viggo took a bath. He usually showers now, but I thought he might enjoy a bath. He had been sitting in there for awhile when I heard a funny sound:

Pfffuulbbff.

"Hey V-man! What's going on in there?"

Pfffuulbbffttt.

So then I told Viggo if there were any more suspicious sounds coming out of the tub, I was going to call the police to report a tooting.

Pffuulbbff.

He was filling up an empty shampoo bottle and then quickly sitting on it to make a spectacular farting noise.

I love living with a 7-year-old boy.

I am ready for the weekend.