Today Tate told me I had "wadoo hair," which in Tatespeak means wet hair. I had to tell him that no, it wasn't wet. Just very, very dirty since I no longer have time to shower with all of this moving business going on. And then I begged Brad to watch Tate so I could get a shower. After that he got a call from a friend's hair salon because they were doing a photo shoot and wanted him to come down and get photos taken while he got his hair cut. So Brad not only got to have a free haircut and clean hair, he also got to have someone else wash it. Harumph. And that's all I have the energy to write since I've been having moving-stress-related insomnia. Fortunately, my friend Mt. Prospect Beth loaned me the first two seasons of Monk on DVD so I'm going to go watch those and try to get some sleep. It's a jungle out there.
ETA: Brad failed to mention the manicure until I saw this photo. I'm pretty sure that would have sent me over the edge.
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