KatyKatiKate

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we're going again

You know how when you're watching a movie about making movies, and the director yells cut, and then a bell rings, and then all the effects guys swoop in with their utility belts and plumber cracks, and the wardrobe lady and the makeup team flutters around the actors, changing bloody shirts or fixing a shiny nose, and the assistant director speaks intensely with the director for a minute and then claps several times, whirls a finger around up in the air and says, "OK guys we are going again! Reset!"

That's basically what happens in my house during Chicken's nap time.

The milk cup is stuffed between 2 couch cushions. Upside down. The puzzle pieces are in the train box. The trains are in the stuffed animal basket. The stuffed animals are in the bath tub. I have no idea where the bath toys are.

Oh. In my bed. Under the blankets. Still weeping last night's bath water. Props! We are gonna need a sheet change! 

Makeup! There's jam in mom's hair. (At no point today did Chicken have access to jam.)

Sometimes I wonder if I should just let the train box be the puzzle piece home, and let the stuffed animal basket be the train home. I figure he will cycle every toy grouping through every potential vessel, and at some point in the next few years, shit will go back to where it was originally. 

But I'm not zen enough to wait.

Reset! We are going again!