Wind, wind, go away…. and don’t come back.
Today Noa had to push her push-bike down the dike on our way to school to pick up Sam. On the way home, Mylo’s stroller rolled itself back up it.
I’m feeling a little high-strung and crabby because of it; that constant noise. The prospect of sitting down to do my U.S. taxes after we get the kids to bed doesn’t really help. I wish the driving store was in town. I’d ignore all my good intentions to eat less sugar and go buy a pint of some cold creamy goodness.