Can someone please explain to me the "allure" that special projects have over children? Since summer camp ended a few weeks ago, Trey, my seven year old, has been home each day, with NOTHING to do. His words, not mine. I was NOT hogging all of the cleaning, ya'll. I mean, I offered to let Trey clean the potties. I can NEVER be accused of keeping all of the fun to myself.

Anywho, Daddy-O got this WONDERFUL idea of having daily "projects." I mean, I am ALL about giving the kids something to do, especially since I did get a degree in Elementary Education and all. And, if I don't remember anything other than, "As long as you leave your students with nothing to do, they will destroy your classroom," then I FULLY deserved my Bachelor's Degree. So! What to do, what to do? Daddy-O's projects included painting a piece of plywood into an American flag. Once I have pictures of that, I will post them. I must say, though, Trey did a fabulous job with the flag. I plan upon hanging it in our front entryway for everyone to see when they walk in the front door.

What else, you ask? Well, Molly and I made homemade play dough, fabulously scented with Cherry flavored Kool-Aid. (Not to brag or nothing, but MY project beat out paintin' plywood ANY day, because the kids are STILL playing with the play dough. As long as it's not green or fuzzy, I'm golden). Besides the plywood and play dough, Daddy-O had the idea to let the kids create a pinata. Well. THAT project was finished up today, and let me see if I can paint this picture clearly enough for everyone to appreciate.

After they got the balloon blown up, covered with newspaper strips dipped in the flour paste mixture, let dry, and then... well, you know what else needs to be done to create a pinata, right? No sense in boring anyone more than usual, right? So. We get to today, and RIGHT AS Daddy-O is walking out the door to go to yet another teachers' inservice, he announces to the kids, world, everyone within earshot of oh, say, AUSTRALIA, "Hey, ya'll! When Mama goes to Wal-Mart today to get the air conditioning filters, why don't you get your little prizes and things to put inside your pinata? I think it's dry enough to do today!"

OH. THANK. YOU. SO. MUCH.

Well! Let's take ourselves on a trip to Wal-Marts, why don't we?

Is there anything uglier than children who are being FORCED to enter the doors of Wal-Mart? I mean, especially those who have been promised PRIZES and CANDY and TOYS, ooh, and maybe one of those pretzels from Auntie Anne's, especially if the prison gate is open and moved back away from the good hot pretzels, Mama.

Roo-rah. Can't wait to get there.

Fast forward to right after Daddy-O walked back in the door after inservice ended. Because you KNOW I am NOT going to keep this man from enjoying any part of his children's pinata paradise. So they loaded it up with the junk goodies that we purchased at Wal-Mart earlier in the day.

THEN BEGAN THE FUN, said the mother who was not really good at sarcasm.

Daddy-O had already strung a couple of tied-together shoelaces through the top of the pinata, and taped the lid down really good and tight with duct tape. (Because we are ALL about the aesthetics around here). I got elected to walk up the stairs, and drop the pinata down into our hallway, holding the shoestrings. After only, oh, I don't know, four thousand ten or so hits, the pinata magically opened, and my kids descended on all of it like chickens on june bugs.

Wonder what other "projects" I can come up with for them? That teachers' inservice is over, ya'll, and I am going to come up with a LIST like nobody has ever seen before, just so we can all experience some more togetherness before we all kill each other in an attempt to break open another pinata.