D.D. showed up in our room Sunday night after we had put her to bed, so we let her crash with us. It doesn't happen too often anymore, so what the hell, right?
The overhead light was off, but L.H. had his bedside lamp on to read by, so D.D. and I turned away from the light and tried to go to sleep. After a few minutes, I opened my eyes and saw a blurry shadow puppet on the wall. I rolled over to say something to D.D. and saw that *2* sets of hands were casting shadows. Papa pea and baby pea.
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Monday night we had an early bday dinner for yours truly since L.H. was going to be out of town most of the rest of the week at a conference. We went to the Greek restaurant here in our village (mmm...lamb chops), and D.D. decided to be scandalized by the nude statuettes that were part of the decor. For someone who's spend most of her life in her skivvies, she's a terrible prude.
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I finally drove the car for the first time today. L.H. was trying to get ready to leave for his conference and kept remembering things he needed to bring, and so missed his bus into town. He's not the most organized person, which is one reason he needs me so much (among many other, less impersonal, reasons). I didn't even get pulled over or crash. Success! I think I may drive D.D. to ballet, which is a more precarious trip over the mountain. As long as it doesn't start snowing heavily, I'm going for it.
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