Man down.

Poor Curtis has what the doctor called "a particularly gnarly" case of strep throat. For the record, I apologize for thinking he was just being dramatic. It's 9:00 and I am headed to bed with a renewed respect for single parents, but first these:

 Tru spent a large chunk of this evening throwing a ball for himself and trying to hit it with the bat and then giving his patented pterodactyl screech when "Bo-bie" would run off with it. After hearing me a few times he started yelling, "BO-BIE! DROPT IT!" And also for the record, my biggest parenting challenge, maybe ever, is that pterodactyl screech. It is multi-octave and just goes on and on. Add these two Lynx together, turn up  the volume to 99 and you get what I'm talkin' here. 


Love that boy, can't wait for the screeching phase to end. 

And then this guy:

 He was working on puzzles while I made dinner and Tru played tee ball with the dog, and has a constant stream of commentary and questions going, and then gets down to the bottom of his body systems puzzle and says "AND this is what the boy looks like after an animal has eaten him"  Thanks for the life lessons, country livin'!