So we were supposed to fly kites this week. I got a really nifty kite from Costco and a baby-sitter all lined up. Excitement abounded. I love flying kites. It's whimsical. It's fun. It's different. It's playful. It's outside.
And then ... My Man got sick.
REALLY sick. His lymph nodes are like grapefruits and his fever raised the temperature in our room a couple degrees.
So I cancelled the baby-sitter, took the kids to fly kites, and laid out on the trampoline with My Man. (He needed some fresh air.)
We talked about the end of the world, food storage, depression and how to shield our children from pornography. A stimulating conversation.
Oh, and we took turns shielding each other from the blinding sun.
Now that's true love.