so anyway in my house, when you walk down to our basement, you have two options:
- you can turn left and go into the laundry room... this is my usual route.
- turn left, you go into the Lego pit of despair. you know, that ryan and jacks are the only grandchildren for both of our parents. it's beyond speculation, that they are overly indulged. they are very loved by those 4 people, as well as several sets of delightful aunts and uncles. all of that loving usually presents itself in lego sets, and there needs to be a monthly "lego rake-up" of the floor.
so after two hours of complaining and foot stomping, the basement was cleaner--you could safely walk down there without enduring lego punctures on bare feet...
jackson came upstairs, stomping down the hallway to his bedroom, slamming the door... and then there is silence for a few minutes and the door opens, jackson came back to the kitchen, grabs the swear jar and stuffs in a fiver.
he then turned to me, and said, "i was really, really mad, and i swore a lot downstairs, (tears welling up in his eyes) and i think that five dollars should be pay for everything i said."
our fancy dinner is going to be a sweet reward for all of us.