While I was slaving away earning a living, providing for my family, and sacraficing a Sunday evening in the comfort of my home for a business trip, Martin and Uncle Jim (a bad combo, if you ask me) decided to let the kids run amok.
They crafted a 5 foot tower of death by stacking pool lounge chairs and toy tubs on top of each other, allowing my precious angel to plummet into the pool. All the while screaming, "Daddy weekend!!"
Following pool time, Daddy allowed Peyton to wear her fleece footed jammies to dinner. Outside. In Arizona. In the middle of summer. It was at least 103 degrees. (In his defense, he was covering up her skin so the bug wouldn't bite her. Probably could have used a long sleeve cotton tee and some leggings, but his heart was in the right place).
Good thing my trip was only 24 hours, and order was quickly restored in the house.
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