Meal planning. I. Loathe. It.
Helen even gets adjusted at the chiropractor!
Four last things to get that our normal grocery store didn’t have.
So we three girls wait in the car while the dudes get the rest.
Like sugaring lemon peels for lemonade.
Little man wakes up from his epic length nap.
They scream entertain each other while I finish prepping dinner.
They harass the mail man.
Naan fresh off the grill. Om nom nom.
Hard at play while I slave over a hot open flame.
Our feast. Fresh produce, hummus, naan, homemade lemonade. I lovingly refer to it as “Hippy Dippy Dinner”.
After two grueling hours of attempted bedtime, I’m ready to pound out my frustration.