Thursday night, our neighbor had an open house, so we went to meet some of the other neighbors. We had dinner beforehand, because I didn't feel up to superintending my children eating in someone else's house. It's not that they're messy, exactly, but that one of them is more persnickety than the word persnickety allows for, and the other one is so exuberant that one is never sure what she's going to do next.
So all they had there was dessert, but they had s'mores for the first time.
Margaret's response was lyrical. She had no words.
That kid. I don't know.
Then Friday night*, we had a backyard picnic. It was my first time in the backyard for any amount of time, which is kind of pathetic, but it has been cold and wet and snowy and miserable, and the back steps are steep.
Also, I am apparently very lazy.
So. We picnicked. Ellie ate a cheese sandwich. Margaret asked for a cheese and pickle sandwich. Fun was had by all.
Towards the end of the meal, Margaret turned into a squirrel.
Sometimes sandwiches require a lot of concentration, you know?
On Saturday night, despite the torrential rain, Leo suggested that we go to Mr. Wizard's. I realized that I have been remiss in ice cream cone education, because Ellie doesn't really have the mechanics down. But she persevered, and far past a reasonable consumption time, finished her ice cream cone.
Also, she tried the cone, which was a big step forward. And she has reduced me to that level: rejoicing at the consumption of an ice cream cone, because at least she tried something new.
She is not as gormless as she looks in that last picture.
Sunday, we had a lovely meal outdoors on Leo's parents patio, and I took no pictures. Apparently I was having too much fun to record it.
*Actually, it was probably Thursday, because Leo and I went out Friday night, but it was some night last week. Stop being so pedantic.