One Fell Off and Broke Her Head

Actually, one fell off and broke her arm.  I'm blogging from the Marmot House, because my sister and Marmot Dad and Madame 5-yr-old are at the hospital taking care of Madame's arm, which she broke by jumping off the couch just before I arrived for Sunday dinner.  Madame 4-yr-old and Tuey and I have been holding down the fort here, but now they are both asleep in bed, because I'm the best aunt that ever was.  I know a lot about aunts, because I have a number of them, including one very BAD great-aunt who always asked me if I wanted to take a nap when she was watching me (I never did want that) and one very GOOD great-aunt who always offered to send me home with a kitten (my mother never wanted THAT) and also has a chicken plucker in her barn, which I think is the most amazing thing I've ever seen.

Getting Tuey to bed is a little bit of a feat, because, although he is my Best Good Boyfriend most of the time, at bedtime he is my Saddest Screamiest Boyfriend.  He doesn't like going to bed when his parents are away.  He's no match for my soothing walk/rock and arsenal of songs, inherited from my mother who knows every lullaby and ballad in the Western world, though.  I always prevail.