build those houses.

We share a lot of things with our neighbors. Crock pots. Clothes. Milk. The occasional handy-man husband. We have debated communal living for quite some time. Unfortunately germs do not escape the sharing. So my sick kids went over and played with their sick kids because they all had the same kind of sick. And we made gingerbread houses. Because it is Christmas.

You can totally tell Stephanie is a teacher. Upon arrival she already had four plates with small milk cartons glued on to them. Four plates filled with an equal amount of marshmallows and gummies and various candies and graham crackers. Four bowls with icing and child friendly knives. She is nothing if not prepared. She also had sprinkles which is why we did this at her house and not mine. Because. OCD. 

David just ate all the things. Just call him Augustus Gloop. And then he promptly squawked until he was let out of his chair of pain and he could play again. With my daughter? I just tried my hardest to let her creative juices flow. To not correct her. And to try and not be offended when she informed me she could do it herself. 

Thank you Fitzs. For your everything.