Family night was fun last night for basketball camp. Mr. Autism behaved very well. He didn't throw his shoes at anyone, or scream too loudly during any quiet parts of the evening. There were toddlers there behaving worse than he did, so I was happy. It's all relative.
Mr. Smarty Pants has decided that he likes shooting baskets and dribbling, but not playing basketball. You see, he made it through an entire season of soccer without a single injury, and in one week of basketball camp, his legs are all bruised up, he's got a red spot on his upper lip area, and a cut on his hand. He does not like being injured, doesn't like when other kids are aggressive.
He gets enough of that at home with Mr. Autism.
My sweetie didn't show up after work to parent night because he didn't realize he had to. He's a parent. I thought he had to. We duked it out in Super Mario Brothers Wii, and I bounced on his head a lot and pushed him into the lava. It works out.
This morning he's at work already for more unscheduled overtime. There's work that needs to be done by Monday morning, and even though it's not his fault that it's not done, he wants to get it done anyways. I'm too impressed with his work ethic right now to be upset. This is the first time since we've been together that he's loved his job.
This morning I picked the first cherry tomatoes that the bugs hadn't gotten to before me, which feels like a huge victory. A few more cayenne peppers were waiting, still more banana peppers, and a respectable amount of jalapenos. My bell pepper seedlings are sprouting, finally, just when I'd almost given up.
Mr. Smarty Pants and I got the summer squash and the butternut squash in the ground yesterday, regardless of the lack of new seeper hoses and perfect mulches levels. I think I need to stop worrying about perfect, and just get things done.
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Notes from the Cheerleading Squad: