April 1st gives me shifty eyes

Want to hear about my day? Sure! I assume if you've found yourself on my blog you could only hope for so much, right?

Today I tended a cute little not-quite 2-year-old with a broken femur. Femur! Her cast covers up one entire leg, her torso and halfway down her other leg, with a big beam in between to keep her legs apart. It's heartbreaking. And—downer time—it gets worse! Her mom is expecting baby #2 and was just put on strict bed rest. Meaning? No holding her frantic cast-ridden baby, among about a million other things. She can't even change her diaper because that would require lifting too much (I'm serious—it's an enormous cast...adds on quite a few pounds to the little light-weight.) All of this (broken femur and bed-arrestment) occurred all within 24 hours of each other just a few days ago. Eeesh.

Around lunch time I carried her to her home so I could make lunch for her and her mother and help get her down for a nap.
I came home to find our house had been infested:

They're everywhere.

No one seems to know how they got here. (I'm looking at YOU, Tom...and Clara.)

And more importantly, no one seems to know what they want with us.

(Do you like how I have a "Baby Clothes" bookmark? And that it's a drop-down menu? I like to kill time by browsing.
Browsing! Just browsing!)

Anyway, if anyone knows a good exterminator, do tell. These little guys look like they'll be a doozy to get rid of.

Anyway. Where were we? At some point in the afternoon while Tom Thomas and I were on our respective computers we heard A VOICE in our breezeway. There was no mistaking it. We both dropped what we were doing to look at each other in horror and give the sincerest groans we could muster. MDR—our crime-committing, completely off-her-rocker neighbor—is back. Or at least it would seem. I mean, it's not like either of us ran out to greet her and ask to catch up on the past 6 or 7 months and chit-chat about future plans. Good grief, and I hadn't even gotten the chance to tell blogdom about our most recent (and currently ongoing, as it were) neighbor fiasco with a fellow I'll dub as "John." (Because his name IS John, mainly). And now our beloved MDR is back? Yee-haw! A friend in my ward was telling me about an open apartment in her breezeway—which is across the way in the, apparently, "classier" section of our quaint little community. Oh man, if I didn't hate moving so much I think I'd be seriously considering it.

Whew. I'm almost done, promise. It's been an eventful day, if you couldn't tell. Tonight we had Tom's cousin Jack and his wife Joanna over for dinner. We're the types of people that get along splendidly and you can really tell because—A: we spent at least 5 or 6 minutes (maybe more) during dinner reciting quotes from "Fantastic Mr. Fox," B: we all got our serious faces on for a mean game of Farkle, and C: we all laughed equally hard during our after-dinner Youtube entertainment of Pinky, Pet of the Week and Kitten Surprise.

Well there it is. My day. I'm eagerly looking forward to crawling into bed. Only now I'm a little nervous that somebody's watching me. (That's your cue, Rockwell.)