substitute

momma school had a substitute teacher last night. dad. his class of two consisted of a 2-year-old who likes to write on the furniture and a 4-year-old who no longer says "i can't" when writing his letters. dad coached his boy on making his pencil kiss the lines and showed his girl how to write on paper and not the couch.

in the meantime, i was busy myself. i did jumping jacks around the house to keep myself from scratching my 15 (not a typo!) mosquito bites along with the most loverly allergic reaction to who knows what. i dream of benadryl shots, drinking liquid benadryl and laying in a pool full of benadryl.

i guess that's what i get for taking the kids to the park at dusk. never. ever. again.