Mr. Owlie had a rough day last week. He was grumpy from the minute he got up and boldly declared, “Momma, today I not happy.” True to his word he was crabby, whiny, crying and testy the entire day.
At about 4:00 I couldn’t take another minute of Grumpy Owlie. He had to go into a time out because he couldn’t be around people. Unfortunately, I couldn’t put him in is room because Jennie Doezie was staying there.
Instead, I had to put him in my room. I told him to lay on my bed until he could calm down and try to be nice to his family. I shut the door (locked it too) and left him. He commenced kicking the door and screaming at the top of his lungs. I walked away from that . . . fast.
I went downstairs to visit with Jennie and my other kids for a while. I don’t know when it stopped, but at some point Owlie had gone silent. That usually means one of two things: a) he’s doing something really bad or b) he’s conked out.
When I tried to open the door, I could not. But in the crack I did manage to make, I could see this:
When you’re a blogger and you see that, you immediately think, “Where’s my camera?”.
After I figured out how to get the door open enough to get around my boy, I had a clear shot of him, sitting straight up, leaning his little head on a pile of vintage suitcases as a pillow, doing this:
And that, dear readers, is how my blog writes itself. I can’t make things like this up. They just happen. And when they do, I am so, so glad that I have chosen to document my life.