How many is too many?

This weekend was very relaxing. Usually on Saturday mornings I am raring to go to yard sales, but after two previous weeks of disappointing sales and a quarter tank of expended gasoline, I changed my mind. Hubby left early to help grandson build a deck. The house was so quiet, I stayed in my jammies and read all morning. It was one of life's simple pleasures.

You'd think I'd have been tired of being in my PJs for two days straight. We celebrated feelings week at preschool with a pajama party during school time. I wore my white Mickey Mouse print, one piece, button down the front, flannel pajamas, pink cuffs at the neck, wrist and ankles. (Maybe it was a million Minnies, not Mickeys wearing pink hats.) The kids laughed themselves silly when they saw me. (Sorry, no photos forthcoming.)

I got a good laugh last week. One of the little boys was in the play house possessively holding the door closed. A group of girls wanted in. One of the girls said, "If you let ME come in I will be your princess wife, and you can be the handsome prince." With that, he flung his mouth and the door wide open, fluttered his eyes, greeted her with a goofy grin and allowed her to enter. One by one, the other four girls came up and forced themselves in, some declaring themselves princesses and others just wives. That Fisher-Price Playhouse was so cramped, and he was getting more frustrated with each new resident. Finally he threw his arms in the air and said, "Okay-okay, five wife-es is too much!" Of course, the girls did what all wives do when their husband-prince talks nonsense, they ignored him.