Oh dear, my mother found it necessary to come into my room and "clean" it. But by "clean" she means to rearrange everything in a way she finds more efficient, oh, and dust. I'll be searching for things for days. On the bright side, I wont be sneezing.
In other news, the several signs I put up in the bathroom and outside the bathroom to remind the boys to flush the toilet have proved ineffective. My only conclusion: they cannot read. So hereafter I will be giving random vocabulary lessons including the words "please" "flush" and "toilet"
Do I still want half a dozen children? Yes. Do I want them to be boys? Um, maybe one if the lumberjack I plan on marrying insists.
Well, I shall go to bed now before I make up any other scenarios that will never happen, like my lumberjack being a centaur and we run away together to partholon, or something.
Goodnight my sweet (Insert your name here.)