Except ballet is one of those odd worlds where they actually want -- nay, expect -- you to show up no matter how you feel. And tonight is the gala. And guess who's determined to perform? Though I suppose I'll have to wake her up if that's going to be an option...
* * * *
Snuggler has her last soccer game of the season this afternoon. Little Guy went to cheer her on. He owes her some fraternal support; they're going through a sibling rough patch that's mostly of his making. We'll see how it goes; I asked him what positive and encouraging thing he could say to her if the team lost, and he looked at me blankly.
* * * *
The bathroom floor was dutifully destroyed, and then re-tiled. We're still waiting for the tiles to set, though we can walk on the boards covering the floor. Unfortunately, something went wrong when the Super re-installed the toilet, and it leaks whenever it's flushed. So we still have just one toilet for seven people (soon to be eight, when my dad arrives). That will be the case until Tuesday, because the Super has today and tomorrow off.
In case you wondered, several years ago I determined that the maximum number of potty-trained individuals you can have in the house without needing a second bathroom to prevent at least one crisis a day is... six.
Wish us luck.