Sometimes you just can't sell 'em to the gypsies....

....or to the circus, no matter how much you've threatened to do just that in the past 3 days alone.

I was feeling so gross last night (it's the pneumonia or the pleurisy or the bronchitis), and didn't even feel like I had the strength to get up off the couch, so my kids were fending for themselves (Devin had 3 meetings and a Scout Court of Honor). Camille, the One of the Major Attitude, was in my room, and I assumed she was watching some junk on TV. I didn't care like I should because, as I said, I felt gross and had no energy. When Devin came home much later and went to our room, he came back out and said, "Did you see what Camille did in here?" Oh, no, I thought. What food did she smuggle in there this time? Could it be worse than the graham crackers and Nutella from last week? On my bed? "No," I said. "What'd she do this time?" And he handed me this note:













Can you read what it says? "Dear Mommy, When you told me you weren't feeling so good I thought of all the nice things you do for me. I decided it might help if I did all the laundry. I [heart] U. Love, Camille." I cried, and then I went and kissed her face as she slept.
So, you see, I can't sell her now. Amazing how one sweet act from a kid erases hundreds of their rotten ones from the recent past.

PS: Now that I know how well she can fold laundry, I should probably take full advantage of that knowledge, huh? No use in not exploiting your kids' abilities, I always say.