Basically, I was "Ma'med" in French. Some kids lost their ball over the school fence and asked for my help. There was about 6 of them yelling rapid fire French at me, but I got the gist. But they said madame every other sentence. I know they were being polite, but boy it can make you feel old.
The workers were back in the house and it was just more dust and more sawing. I'm ready to have my house back. The Kid was home for lunch and he seemed to enjoy it a bit more than I did, but even he seemed a little put out by the mess.
I made pizza for dinner and I think I'm getting pretty good at it. I realize it isn't one of the hardest dishes, but the kids always seem quite excited when they see its pizza night. The mess it creates however is a different story. It takes me nearly twice as long to clean up than other nights. I remembered being bummed doing my one dish. Cleaning a kitchen used by 7 is a whole new ball game. At least this way, I'll really appreciate that one dish when I'm back home.
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