Three Small Men: Friday Night Funfest

Tonight was family dinner and movie night at our house. The temperatures outside for the last few days have registered somewhere around 'arctic tundra' - Jack Frost has definitely settled in. We've been wishing he would bring snow or else just mosey on back to his stomping grounds up north. It seemed like a good evening to light a fire, order pizza (sorry, delivery guy) and huddle around the warmth for a 7 pm showing of Shrek No. 4. I really don't remember what the actual title is. I thought it was better than the third one, though. The little men liked it too. Wee-man sat in my lap the whole time and provided very amusing commentary.

I had to resist the urge to stick a marshmallow in the fire and attempt to make a s'more with chocolate chips and two Ritz crackers. Hey, that's what I've got on hand.

Even though the lighting is lacking (as are my photo skills, although I did finally just purchase PhotoShop), I love that all of my guys are calmly gathered here in our living room at the same time. This is quite a rarity. Still soaking it in.

I did some literal soaking too, after the boys went to bed. I've just rediscovered my bathtub, and I'm wondering why it took me so long. It's been sitting there all this time, filled with plastic toys and popsicle sticks and water-friendly crayons, waiting on me to return with aromatic bath salts and foamy bubbles. It was patiently waiting for me to seize the space, stake my claim and put up the "No Boys Allowed" sign. Well, two outta three ain't so bad.

I tried to ignore Batman and that funny little Elvis-wannabe chipmunk thing that watched me the whole time.

Oh, and now for the funny part of the evening.

When I checked on G-man a few minutes after he was sent to bed, he was sitting in his closet drawing pictures with Crayolas. He asked if I would play the "I draw, you draw" game, which is where we take turns drawing a particular subject matter. Tonight he said we had to do masks.

I am no Picasso or Van Gogh for sure, but here is what transpired on that blank sheet of white paper, and I have a feeling you'll notice the Freudian hilarity just like I did.