Things That Make No Sense

1.  Every morning, we ask Jemma what she wants for breakfast, and every morning, she says, "Fomps."  And nobody here can remember exactly when, but the term fomps was born a few months back on a day when Annie decided it would be yummy to add a container of yogurt to her Cheerios-and-milk breakfast.  As she was dumping the yogurt out of the container, it make a plopping sound, and as she reached her spoon up inside the container to dig spoonfuls out, she said, "Fomps, fomps."  I realize this is not a word, nor is it really even the sound that yogurt falling on Cheerios makes, but there it is:  fomps.  Sometimes the girls want "Peach fomps with strawberry cereal" which means Special K Red Berries with peach yogurt on it.  Sometimes they want "regular fomps," which is just Cheerios, a little bit of milk, and vanilla yogurt.

2.  After literally years of dithering about it, today was the day that I disappointed generations of my clean-freak, frugal Dutch ancestors and had a cleaning service come over to give me a quote.  Guess what I was doing before they came over?  That's right, cleaning my house.  The shoes!  Must be organized!  The stovetop!  Must be wiped down!  The toys!  Must be picked up!  The ever-present-floor-hair!  Must be vacuumed!  And then when the woman came in the front door, she stopped to put these little blue booties on over her shoes (like at Parade of Home houses) and I said, "Oh, please, it's so dirty in here that you don't need to wear those!"  AFTER I HAD BEEN CLEANING MOST OF THE MORNING.  I can tell it's the beginning of a long, dysfunctional relationship.

3.  The weather has been very fall-ish lately, very cool in the morning and then quite warm later in the day.  I mention this because it's difficult to dress Annie for school when she leaves to walk there in the 45-degree morning and then plays on the playground for afternoon recess when it's closer to 70.  I usually encourage her to dress in layers (short-sleeved top, sweater, fleece on top; skirt with leggings underneath on the bottom) so that she can take things off as necessary.  On Monday, however, I unthinkingly sent her to school wearing a long-sleeved dress.  When she got hot at some point during the day, she did what anyone would do:  she took that hot, long-sleeved dress off!  So when she came running out of school at the end of the day, she was wearing:

-a white, tank-style undershirt, size 3T, that I had argued with her about that very morning and told her to put in Jemma's drawer because it was too small for her;

-gray tights;

-pink tennis shoes.

Where was the dress?  In her desk.