And for once, it wasn’t my mother making me want to gnaw my own arm off just for the distraction.

It was Hurricane Owen.

Who faked us all out by taking a really long nap today.

I believe what he was actually doing was planning his strategy.

It’s hard to have a discussion with my folks when every third word or so, SOMEONE has to stop and shout “Owen NO!!!”

Owen spontaneously sprouted eight arms at the dinner table tonight, all of them devoted to things like dropping Mommy’s wine glass into Daddy’s pint glass, then fingerpainting in the resulting mess, while grampa and Mommy frantically try to deal with the shards of broken glass everywhere, then laughing as the mess runs between the slats on my barnboard harvest table, onto the hardwood floor and rather surprised cat below.

THIS time, we got it cleaned up before it managed to rain through onto the computer in the basement.

WHILE we were cleaning up, Owen was stripping naked.

While we were looking for his socks, he was trying to lick a cat.

While we were looking for the cat, he was droppping magnets into the air vent.

So yeah. I’m not crazy about three so far.

Can’t wait to see what happens at the uptight Gramma’s house tomorrow.

At least we got the telltale food colouring off his fingers and nostrils.

I don’t THINK anyone but us will notice that his belly button and the end of his little boy bits are green.

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