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Monkeys jumping on my head.

Thank heavens for quiet time. I have been marooned at my grandmother’s house, faced with a horde of rambunctious child demons which insist they are my cousins. And I’m not even getting paid for behavior management.

Occassionally an irate aunt or uncle storms into the fray booming about how we’re not supposed to bonk each other on the head with pillows or huck dirty socks at one another, and inevitably glowers at me, minding my own business in the corner. Says something like, ”oh, ANNIE’S in here.” like I’m supposed to be controlling the situation because I’m a.) 24, and b.) a teacher. Ha. Ha. This is what chrismas vacation is for. I’m thoroughly enjoying the rampant sugar-induced ruckus, because I don’t HAVE to do anything about it. Make more noise!

Just kidding, it’s quiet time. Which means it’s almost bedtime!

We were playing castle earlier and the little kids were fetching me cookies because I am The Duchess, so I promoted one of them to Wizard and the other to Grand Chancellor. We went on a trip to visit some Northern Peskimos and eat crepes, and kill the lumpy Lemon Merengue monster. And then there was a revolution and I had to hide behind a couch. It was very exciting.

One of the monkeys just read this and said to me “You’re 24?!? Oooo that means you can go to a CASINO!!!”

bahaha.

I ate too many cookies.

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