Yesterday was a postcard from Spring. Today was covered in wind.
I had big plans to visit parks and play outside. It didn't happen. Instead we stayed in and made our own hurricane.
The boys, left mainly to their own devices while Tricia was at work and I rotated between drinking coffee, listening to jazz and sleeping on the couch, have created a wasteland of legos and V-Smile cartridges.
It matches my 3 loads of unfolded laundry nicely and it really brings out the color in my stack of dirty dishes.
I guess, deep down (because I'm like that, layered like an onion/parfait) I figured that none of this was going to get done today had we been able to pursue our original agenda, so why mess with fate and do it now? Who knows how that might effect butterflies in the Amazon, or Desmond for that matter.
Basically, we didn't do squat and in a few moments my wife will be walking through the door, tired and cranky and smelling like fajitas, and I don't think she'll be nearly as impressed with my infallible logic as some of you may be.
I should probably change the boys out of their pajamas.