Update: No one new potty-trained; aim not noticably improved.
Younger son’s broken arm is now completely healed, but next week he’s going to have to have a crown put on a decaying baby tooth. I’m already feeling queasy about it.

In other news, my husband bought me a Roomba. In case you don’t know what that is, it’s a little robot vacuum cleaner that runs by itself on carpeted and uncarpeted floors. He came home with it before Christmas, and at first I imagined it was my gift–let me just interject here that while normally I would not even consider a household appliance to be an acceptable gift, this I would have embraced with open arms–but it wasn’t!!! It was…just because! So now, I’m pulling this thing out at the drop of a hat and sending it on it’s merry way around the house. Meanwhile…I can do anything else I want! It’s almost like I have a little tiny maid that performs only one task with brisk, if somewhat noisy efficiency. I’m just a little bit in love. Today it went under my couch–whoever vaccuums under there???–now Roomba does.
My sons love it and being the Star Wars aficionados that they are, they call it Mouse Droid. My older son barely spared enough time to be impressed by it before asking if we could get other ones that did other things. His suggestion: a painting droid that would glide, loaded with paint, up and down the walls of our house. I cringe just thinking about that possibility. I’m happy with Mouse.
At this rate I should be able to crank out a book in no time, right?
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!