So this morning I got up bright and early. This of course was due to something that wakes me up that starts with the letter ‘A’ but is not an Alarm Clock. Abby came in between 5:70 and 6:10. I think that’s what time it was because I sure as heck didn’t want to get up. But I got up eventually and we went out and watered the plants. Well, I set her to watering the plants while I trimmed the rose bushes. That’s a good plan, right? Having your two year old spraying the plants, house, sidewalk, windows, ants and anything else near her with water? What on earth could be wrong with shotting pressurized water at delicate petals at point blank range?

So I clipped the shrubs picked some weeds and generally made a P. Allen Smith of myself. Of course P. Allen Smith’s flowers are in better shape and he probably knows exactly whats wrong with his roses when they get spots on them, but for me, I’m ignorant and I’m going to have to ask someone who knows. Then, after I had finished clipping I actually watered the rest of the plants. The plants that were starting to wilt in sheer jealousy because Abby had started flooding the sidewalk while their dirt was dry. The plants that have frankly amazed me with their durability since they’re still alive at our house. Yes, those plants got watered. Tough luck for the plants in the back yard, but I’ll get to do them tomorrow.