You Drive Me Nuts

Bubble Beard

What I saw when I checked on the small, constant yell, "Help! Help! Help!"  Yes, that is our compost bin.

My third garden box!  Not placed, leveled or filled, but built!

Our dinner conversation the other night went something like this:

Luke swung one leg down to the floor and looked up at me mischievously waiting for me to reprimand him.  I complied,
Laura:  Luke you haven't been excused.  Sit nicely in your chair.
Luke: No sanks.
Laura: If you can't sit in your chair nicely and have a meal with the entire family then you will have to have a swat on the bum.
Luke: Swats hurt.
Luke proceeds to slide further and further out of his chair and finally turns so his head is hanging over one side of the chair and his bum is facing me.
Laura:  You are making this far too easy.  I am going to swat your little bum if it's in my face like that.  Sit nicely at the table, please.
I tap his bum gently and half-laughing before saying sternly
Laura:  That's enough.  Up you get.
Finally Luke sits up with a sigh and says,
Luke:  You are driving me nuts when you swat my bum, Mom.