Hubby is now down with the plague that's been going around starting with Liam. We went to the grocery store to get supplies, as poor Mother Hubbard's cupboard was definitely bare, after picking Liam up from school. This meant that the little guy did not get his usual afternoon snooze. The kids were surprisingly well-behaved in the grocery store (usually by the end of the trip, I'm ready to tear my hair out), but I knew Jonah was feeling sleepy. After helping bring in the groceries and gobbling down his sugar cookie reward, he headed downstairs with big brother to watch some Fraggle Rock. I thought it was awfully quiet down there which means one of a short list of possibilities: either they are disassembling the laundry that I'd carefully sorted or were climbing the barstool in an attempt to get to the top bookshelf, or they were sleeping. Sure enough, I sneaked down the stairs to find this:
After tossing all the laundry I'd sorted off the futon and onto the floor, he must have tackled the cat. Dots loves ANY attention, and she usually welcomes someone wanting to scuff her. Little did she know she was going to have to play pillow for the next hour or two. Luckily Sleep is her middle name, so she probably wasn't really planning on going anywhere anyway.