In his hands.

It’s November, so here we go.

I’ve been staring at the “blog post” reminder on my phone since 9:00 this morning, but this is the first time I’ve had to sit and write. (And even now, it’s just a quick ten minutes while The Who practices piano before we have to head up for the bedtime routine.) I’ve had various topics float in and out of my mind throughout the day, but of course none of them are at the ready now. Something about his costume. Something about my weekend job. Something about Tootsie Pops (Watermelon is the best one, I learned.)

That’s all I’ve got today. But I’ll be back tomorrow.

As he carried this costume to and from school, I couldn't resist singing, "He's got the whole world in his hands!" He was not amused.

As he carried this costume to and from school, I couldn’t resist singing, “He’s got the whole world in his hands!” He was not amused.

His arms are so long, he can reach all the way from Alaska to Brazil! (Another joke by which he was unmoved.)

His arms are so long, he can reach all the way from Alaska to Brazil! (Another joke by which he was unmoved.)

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