Yesterday was a rare but stereotypically hellish single parent day. Dan woke up with the flu, which he'd caught from me. Lauren fainted just after she got out of the shower (she's perfectly fine but poor Grandpa's nerves are shot, probably forever). The Fat Pit Bull ate something- gawd only knows what but it'd been dead for quite sometime- and spent the day horking piles of decomposed yuck all over the house. And I have the flu.
After the mayhem had subsided, I went for a lie down. Wee-est Child was hogging my bed. Eldest Child & Fat Pit Bull were hogging the couch. The world's most uncomfortable recliner awaited me. Meh.
The world's most uncomfortable recliner offers a delightful view of the purple finches building a nest in the left over (thankfully artificial) Christmas wreath on the front door. The photos are a little wonky because I was too sick to get out of the world's least comfortable recliner for a decent angle. It's a bit like one of those nature shows where the camera's hidden behind glass spying on some unsuspecting critter.
They're cute. So we use the back door now.