Not to be confused with my neice, Puddin’. That’s not really her name but her parents can’t decide what to call her (Marianna, Mary Wilkes or Wilkes) so we are all sticking with Puddin’ til they make up their minds.
At any rate, I am trying desperately to get my fitness on again. I put Sadie in the car to go to a spin class today and came back inside to get Emma, who was hiding in the laundry room, eating PUDDING out of the package. That’d be the powdered kind. And yes, that is a basket FULL of clean laundry COMPLETELY covered in pudding mix.
This still isn’t funny to me. Mostly because even though I knocked the pudding off of the clothes outside and swept, I still haven’t mopped the floor and wiped down the cabinets like I need to. So you just go ahead and laugh for me, OK? I’m going to wait until I’m a MeeMaw and Emma has a child just like her.
God knew JUST what He was doing when he gave Emma those HUGE blue eyes, that cascade of angelic blond curls always covering them, and the tiniest, sweetest voice I've ever heard. Exactly.
I'm gonna be honest with you, Emma scares me. Mostly because she's a second child and I just had a second child, and while my first child is a handful with a capital WTH, he is an in-your-face-fit-throwing-textbook-strong-willed-child. He doesn't get 'in to stuff'. Which can only mean one thing: the next one will…
Emma…. Emma… Emma… just how good was that puddin' powder to do this? We need to have a talk sweet girl!
Ooooh, this would not be funny to me either if it was my child. Clean laundry is like an endangered species at my house: rare and sacred.
I am totally laughing for you!