My oldest child just turned 11 yesterday. It’s hard to believe I’m old enough to be the parent of a pre-teen. Really hard to believe. As in, I don’t think it’s possible. I’m still 23.
Really, some of them were just itchin’ to get outside and we wouldn’t let them because one of them isn’t supposed to go outside at all because she’s my Cupcake. And the other wasn’t allowed because he’s Bruce the Bumbling Booby who would have trodden upon the colors and trampled purply paint all over the yard and house.