This is the part of the show where Gretchen says, "Pot? This is kettle. You're black."

...because I'm about to call out a BUNCH of y'all for being sorry-ass bloggers like me. Ahem...Shelley (your personal one, not the food one), Melody, Mom, NEIL (you jerk; I've been waiting for that one!), Jen S., Becka (and Becka...the "well I'm a missionary and I'm on the road" excuse? Not working for me anymore. I neeeeeed more!)
Yes, my loyal four readers, I'm a hypocrite. And a sucky updater. I'm going through a "downswing" recently with regard to depression, sloth, laziness and general malaise. ('Tis the season.)
But I do have a funny to share. Last week, Jon and I shuttled the kids off to a playdate and tackled Micah's room. We had planned to do both his and the girls', but realized that not only could we not do that in three hours, but we likely couldn't do it in three DAYS. Anyway, I was in major purge mode. We got rid of an entire trash bag of junk (shhhh, he doesn't know that, because I put it in the outside trash before he got home). The "good stuff", though, we decided to send to Evie. The "good stuff" consists of a very nice easel that my mom and dad bought for him when he turned two (and which saw a lot of use back in the day but hasn't been used recently for probably eight-ish months) and a shopping bag full of Little People stuff (Noah's Ark, a school bus, a tow truck w/ people, etc.). When Micah saw the easel in the hallway, awaiting transportation to its new home (thank you, Shelley!), he immediately went into full drama-queen mode: "I don't waaaaant to give away my easel! I loooooove it! I uuuuse it alll the tiiiiiime!" (Note: True. True. FALSE.) I basically (nicely) told him to suck it up. So, later, when I go past the easel in the hall, here's the message he's written on the chalkboard. TO THE EASEL.