I've spent the last two days getting our house ready to list with a realtor and I'm exhausted. Yesterday I cleaned out the kitchen cabinets and drawers, repainted the kitchen baseboards, replaced tiles under the dishwasher, swept, mopped, paid the bills, balanced and reconciled the checkbook, filed paperwork, and started gathering stuff for a Yard Sale.
Today Dan and I cleaned out the garage and gathered even more stuff for the sale. And because we love torturing our children, we made them try on every single garment in their dressers and closets to get rid of anything that doesn't fit anymore. Ten was being obnoxious while trying on pants. He'd unsnap them, flop down on his brother's bed, and roll around kicking his feet up in the air in an attempt to kick the pants off. I finally got tired of it and yelled at him to get dressed and undressed like a normal person. I said,
"Do you think when your daddy and I take our clothes off we roll around on the bed?"
Then I realized what I'd said and completely lost it. I was doubled over, holding my belly, giggling like a hyena, laughing until tears streamed down my face. Seven kept saying, "What? What's so funny?"
Ten said, "Oh, I think I'm having a heart attack."
Dan just smiled and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.