Underwear in 1884

Quick! While the children are tied down and the husband is doing…heaven knows what, I thought I'd drop a line and let the two of you know how I'm doing.

Good. I'm doing good. Thanks.

Life keeps going, the days pass by, and my children are STILL GROWING. Why do they do this to me? It's killing me.

Last night I went to a party where there just happened to be two little babies. It didn't surprise me that the look on my face was enough to have people asking, "So, you want more children then?"

Yes. Yes I do.

Brett and I stained the cabinet's themselves this weekend. Very, very exciting, I must say. They're a delicious cherry brown. I want to lick them, but Brett said that would probably put me in the hospital. Husbands: always trying to get out of a little work.

Half way through our hard work though, our sander's engine said "I quit!" and now we're without. Hopefully we'll be able to wrangle one up somewhere, because I can tell you this much, I will NOT be sanding by hand. This is why I was born in 1984 and not 1884. That and underwear. Have you seen the things those women had to wear? Yuck. No. Thank. You.

Kelly Out