It's amazing to me how I can have three children in school and not one sharpened pencil in the house.
It never fails. The words "Mom, I can't find a pencil" are uttered and every sharpened pencil in my house becomes invisible. I'll turn the house upside down looking for one and find only those that don't have a little graphite lead peeking out from the wood. What the hell happens to all of our pencils?!
This morning, I set out on a mission to replenish our stock of sharpened writing utensils. After much work (I may have sprained my wrist), we now have 26 sharpened pencils on the desk. So when the kids ask me again where they might be able to find a writing instrument, I will simply point them in the direction of the office, instead of searching high and low for one of the blasted things.
You know what? It's a thankless job being this fantastic.
I even made a really dumb video of myself, performing this menial task just to prove to my friend Jenna that I did (*pfft* Jenna, that nonbeliever). I can't show you though. I'd die. I mean like, really die. For reals. But I can show you the fruits of my labor.
|Not exactly Mr. Pointy, but I'm sure Buffy could slay a few vamps with these.|