High Fashion from the Camp

You know how some people are just born with style? Super Chic is one of those. She's a natural diva. She was born clomping around in plastic high heels. She sashays with the finesse of a super model. She changes her outfits about fifty times a day and we have the laundry to prove it. I have no idea where she gets this from. Certainly not any of us.




This is an outfit of her own design. The tube top was originally a skirt. It's tied to fit her with a hair elastic in the back.

The New Do

What else would make a morning at Camp Chaos but a haircut done ten minutes before I have to leave for work, and I still have to pack my lunch. (I had to be at work by 11 am Chaos Kid took photo after I got home.)

All's Well that Ends Well

As night settles on Camp Chaos, I can feel the kinks and twinges finally work themselves out of my rigid kneck muscles. Good thing we are all morning people around here, I don't think I could handle the kind of activity that goes on around here 24 hours a day.

Mom rocked Baby Bug and Super Chick to sleep in her big overstuffed "couch potato" rocking chair-recliner. It took about two verses of "A Little Ship was on the Sea" and they were out like little light bulbs. Super Chick doesn't take naps anymore and that seriously cuts down on the night time running arounds. She wanted to stay up and give her mom a hug but CC is still at work.

CC's dinner sits on the dining room table amongst wadded up used napkins and glasses drained of their fizzy lemonade. Rapunzel is playing a game all by herself in the living room because I refuse to play with her. I know, I'm a bad Aunt. But it's Hi Ho Cherry Oh and that's just not my favorite game. I'm tired and I just want to play on the computer!!! Bad Auntie, Bad Auntie.... Baaaaaaad Auntie.

Chaos Kid is sprawled on Mom's bed. He spent the day pushing sticks and things through the chipper shredder. He was supposed to be "mowing the lawn" but I guess somehow using the chipper shredder is step one to mowing the lawn. How that works, I do not know. Maybe he has to shred everything that is on the lawn so he can find the lawn so that he can mow it. If you've been here, you'll find that sentence entirely believable and probably funny. Either way it might explain why we heard horrible screeching grinding sounds, like he was feeding a metal volkswagon bumper through the shredder. I didn't look. When I'm here I adopt the "don't ask, don't tell" policy.

That pretty much sums it up. I'm going to pick my way down the hallway, try not to trip over any kittens on my way and maybe throw another load of laundry in the washer. Then I'll find my bed in the sewing room, throw off 49 of the 50 pillows covering it and curl up next to Baby Bug and call it a night.

Then we'll start all over again tomorrow.

I'm exhausted. What else is new?