Dark sarcasm in the kitchen

The boys and I left for the park after lunch so Dada could work on the kitchen. We left after Dada took the ceiling fan down. At the time the room in question looked like this:


What a gorgeous day to be outside. The ground was a little wet, but Jacob didn't care. And I especially didn't care, cause it meant I didn't have to lug his fat tush around the place.






In an interesting side story, Isaac is in the pine tree to poop. I didn't bring any diaper-changing supplies with me, so we had to go home after a little less than an hour at the park because Isaac himself insisted I change his poop diaper. What's more -- he refused to sit in the wagon (on his poop) and walked most of the way. When he got too tired, he got in the wagon, but arranged himself so that he was folded up and "sitting" on his knees such that his butt wouldn't have to sit in his poop.

Suddenly, magically, we have acheived poop consciousness. Dude even sat willingly on his potty this morning as we were getting dressed for the day. I had secretly plotted all along that this would be the month I would start really pushing the potty-training agenda. You can imagine my pleasure that Isaac has himself evolved, naturally, without any added pressure from anyone, to be right there with me.

Anyway, when we got back home from the park, the kitchen looked like this:


Twenty minutes later the kitchen looked like this:


A new wall. In my kitchen. In less than two hours.

And now Dadaw and Mamaw are here, and Dadaw and Dada are ready to kick some kitchen tail tomorrow. It has been suggested that tomorrow at this time all base cabinets will be installed. The spine...she tingles with such glee...