Last night we seemed extra giddy, especially #1 and myself. Jack told #1 to take the recycling out to the barrel in the garage. After dark, this task is one my children dread. As she scurried out the back door I pushed the door shut behind her. I then placed myself in a position behind the door that she wouldn't be able to spot me upon her return. As she came running back to the house she failed to open the door quickly enough and bounced off of it with a THUD and let out a huge bellar. In an effort to not foil my plans, I tried (really hard) not to laugh out loud. Her second attempt found her successfully in the kitchen. At which point I jumped out from behind the door and yelled "TAYLOR"! In true fashion she fell to the floor hollering as she assumed the fetal position. I'm sure this armadillo instinct will serve her well in years to come, yes?
OMG, I laughed until I peed my pants and my loving husband shouted, "Back off guys, she's all mine!" (I probably deserved that.)
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