Little Jambo is sick (though don't tell him; he's far too busy playing and running around like a madman) and his preschool has very strict rules about how much time has to pass between his last high temperature or bad tummy episode, so I could be home with him for a while. Today was day two and Jamie just played and I was SO BORED. There wasn't a thing that happened that was worth blogging about. Until, that is, The Swede came home and we talked about how boring my day had been. He commiserated, having stayed home with him last Friday. "The worst part," he said, "is that you think that you're going to have such a great time during his nap. Maybe watch a movie... sleep a little... but really all you end up doing is staring at the wall, coma toast."
P.S. I embarrass myself dozens, if not hundreds, of times a day with Swedish and my loving husband never says anything about it. The Swede's English is so good that moments like this one are a rarity and I'm obviously not as nice as he is.
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