a few statements suggesting that maybe I’ve spent too much time packing this week, and not enough time with my five-year old.

Ethan, to me, this week:

1.  Mom, when is eight seven central?

2.  In the car: Mom, can you turn on Lady Gaga?

3.  In response to my declaration of absolute, undying love for him:

“Well, Mom,  just because you love me more than anything in the world doesn’t mean that I have to love you more than anything in the world.”


At least I’ll make up for ignoring Ethan by putting him up in a big fancy house this weekend.  That kind of stuff means a lot to little kids, you know.