There's a beetle in the food storage container on the floor-- an eight year old boy's treasure.
A pile of lost and found cowboy gear from acting camp on the counter top sits right next to shavings of cucumber peel from our garden that the kids just couldn't wait to eat.
Five little binkis are lined up in a row on the table from my mildly OCD two year old's binki fettish.
A pile of wet swim wear lies on the floor from our late night family swim before my daughter and her family left for Texas.
The outline of dried up egg white on the counter bears witness of a child's attempt to boil an egg so they can see if it explodes in the microwave foiled by his baby sister's "help."
The table top has paint smudges from when Maia was painting and three other kids were inspired to join in.
Groceries are scattered around from our adventures in Walmart at 930 pm last night. (It's a miracle Walmart is still standing, but we have milk and new panties for Liesl. Worth the cost.)
I love the tales my messes tell ❤️.
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