Notice the trash pile is gone! My dad burned it. Hurray!
I took a box of sidewalk chalk out to the house to draw in the upstairs to see if what I had in mind would work so the girls and I had fun pretending to use the chalk drawn bathroom and walk through the chalk drawn doors.
Then the kids decided to color all over the floor downstairs and naturally that lead to drawing hop-scotch. As soon as Gracie finished drawing the last square, rocks began flying everywhere and children began hopping all willy-nilly, like loud, squeelly, laughing popcorn. It was obvious they had no idea what they were doing and needed an intervention. I, being an expert on the rules of hop-scotch, calmed them all down and began to explain how to really play the game. Once their eyes were sufficiently glazed over, I knew I had thoroughly explained the rules. Then eight year old Gracie said, very seriously, "Hop-scotch is complicated." Just call me the fun sponge.
I don't know which is worse, that my children didn't know how to play hop-scotch or that they now think it's hard. This is what happens when you homeschool. Next weekend I'll be teaching them to jump rope and hula hoop. That should be fun!
My apologies go out to his father and all his grandpas and uncles. Oh, and to Isaiah. Sometimes girls just can't control themselves. We must girlify everything.