Even though mine started out with two huge bruises on one leg. I need to remember not to be on my knees on a hardwood floor (taping baseboards for a friend, pre-painting, for those of you with filthy minds), and not to wrestle with Stephen, because sometimes he sits on me. Apparently, his hipbone can do a lot of damage to my calf.
Slept late, listened to a shitload of random music, did a few errands, and then took the kids to the Syracuse Skychiefs game (they're Toronto's AAA farm team). Alliance Bank Stadium is one of those perfectly sized minor league parks, and despite a drenching storm on the way there, by the time we parked the rain had stopped and the sun had come out again. Good game, especially the Chiefs' rally in the sixth inning, where they scored four runs to come back from a 7-1 deficit. Ben had his glove at the ready, and Sara was mightily impressed with the variety of way over-priced ballpark snacks.
Recent Saraisms, before I forget:
"I have a good expiration for why I'm so dirty."
"That one is cute!" (Approvingly, while pointing at a picture of Gerard Way. Sadly, Ray Toro's hair seems to dismay her.)
"I don't need socks. They hot my ankles."
Panic at the Disco's "I Write Sins Not Tragedies" is, according to Sara, "the wedding song" (due to the video, which she adores). Fall Out Boy's "Bang the Doldrums" is "the yo-ho-ho song." My Chemical Romance's "Welcome to the Black Parade" is, well, "The Black Parade," and seems to be her new favorite. She can sing all the lyrics, which is a little disconcerting.
To top of the lovely day, the Foo Fighters (meaning Dave Grohl! With his beard and Jesus hair!) is on my TV right now, courtesy of the MSG channel. LOVE.