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After a 24-hour stint with 12-year-olds, I hear squealing inside my brain. Oh, wait, the 12-year-olds spent the night, they’re still here, that’s it.
Girls. Squeal.
And, ohmygod, do you see that? The signpost? AM I SQUEALING, TOO? Remember when Steve-the-Builder made us a signpost for our new farm for Christmas? He put it in the ground at the end of the driveway by the road. And his adorable wife Londa made us a sign with our address. And decorated it for Valentine’s Day. Could they be more wonderful? It was a surprise for us when we got out there yesterday.
And look, there’s more! DRYWALL!!! It’s starting to look like there are real walls!! (Squeal!)
Princess had her two bestest friends over to celebrate her birthday and spend the night. She had wanted us to be moved into our house by her birthday so she could have her party there. That didn’t happen, so we drove out to the house, brought cupcakes to the builder, and the girls ran around the house. Squealing. Squealing here.
Squealing there.
Squealing, squealing everywhere.
Then back to the old farmhouse for pizza, cupcakes and candles, and presents. And more squealing.
Almost looks exhausting, doesn’t it?
But, doesn’t it kinda make you want to be 12 again? Go ahead, take the time to squeal today. You know you want to.
What the world needs now are squeals, sweet squeals.
It’s the only thing that there’s just too little of.
What the world needs now are squeals, sweet squeals.
No, not just for some, but for everyone…..
