Now, I don't object to this in a theoretical sense. I mean, there are all kinds of benefits when your proto-people become actual people. A tiny part of me feels a pang for when they loved me more than anything, including video games, but a much larger part of me rejoices in the freedom this brings.
That being said, sometimes their sporadic rate of growth involves monumental efforts on my part. Scouring thrift stores for shorts that will fit Elliot. Replacing all of Charlotte's footwear when her feet grow two sizes over a period of three days. (Seriously, how does she do that?) There are social efforts, too. Teaching them to think before they speak. Teaching them to respect other people's personal space.
Recently, a giant milestone occurred in the growth of my children. The time came when they either needed to be separated from each other by more than just air, or their constant bickering was going to lead to a justifiable homicide on my part.
And so, my fine friends, I spent a Sunday moving furniture and decorations, until my adorable spawn each had a room of their own.
This is Elliot's room. Both spaces are tiny, but they fit a bed, a desk, and a dresser. Elliot's even has a bookshelf. Anyway, here's a shot from the dresser towards the hall...
And here's a shot from the hall into the room. Behold my son in his natural habitat: at the computer.
Charlotte's space was a little more tricky, owing to the fact that there's a hanging space in the room, and her bed is a double, not a twin, but we worked it out. This shot is taken sitting on her bed, angled out int the rest of the room...
And this is from the door looking in. Surprise, surprise, Chaz is also on her computer.
My post move-collapse.
Callie approves of her--ahem--I mean Charlotte's new bed.
Chimbasa is not so sure he approves. Please to scratch head until decision is reached. K thnx.
Death.
Fin.
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