Why do my children take such good pictures of me?
Doesn’t everyone take pictures of their bathroom doors?
This is an extreme closeup of Buddy, J’s lovey. Yes, this is the very same lovey who zips in and out of the portal and disappears, returning with a tan, hickeys, and phone numbers written on scraps of paper.
The view from our back window. No longer a screaming construction site, but an actual school and now the landscapers are digging in, pun intended. Yes, there’s no snow, I apologize to my Midwestern friends.
The rest of the pictures were motion-sickness inducing. Uber-blurry. I’ll have to get A to do this next.