Today I had big plans for a zoo trip. I had sandwiches ready, I had naps and everything planned out so we could spend maximum time there without whiny kids, I had our route mapped so we could hit the carousel and the indoor play area... and Steve gets home last night and his voice is about an octave lower. Totally sick. I was sad...
...until this morning when we got up and it was the most perfect fall day. Ever. Partial sunshine, cool breeze, no rain. Then I was depressed. Siiiggghhhh...
So we cleaned our house instead. And took lots of naps. And went to the park. So it wasn't a total loss, and we had a lot of fun moments singing silly songs and snuggling as a family. But why oh why are we always sick when we have a perfect day for my perfect plans?
I think it's our nasty carpet. Can't wait until our renting days are over.
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