Our house, at least the first room, was built in 1900. Our crawl space is very, very tight. Eric's box chest has a hard time fitting under there. There is no way my pregnant belly could squeeze through the tiny opening. Despite the unknown wildlife that awaited him, my brave husband ventured down in these depths last night - mainly to inspect for wildlife, of which, thankfully, he saw no signs.
Since we first mentioned the need to crawl under the house, Elijah has been really excited about it. When he found out it was definitely happening yesterday, he talked about it every few sentences. He followed Eric around the yard (having sword fights with bad guys) while Eric did the weed-eating. When Elijah came inside to go potty, he talked to me about going under the house.
E: "I'll help Daddy under the house, Momma. First Daddy has to go make sure it is safe. You and Haven can't go because you are girls."
L: "Right. Haven and I won't go, but you can help Daddy."
E: "If you went, new baby might get stinky and then I would get stressed out."
L: {Staring.} "You would get 'stressed out'?"
E: "Yeah. If new baby started making smells, I would get stressed out and we shouldn't do that."
3.23.2010
2 comments:
LOL that is so funny! I can definitely see how that could be stressful :)
I am having huge belly laughs right now. So funny!!
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