My mom is babysitting the Rugrats and they decided to head down to the City on the Water to meet me for dinner and stop by my apartment for a visit.
The Rugrats are my 5-year-old niece and her two brothers, who are 2 1/2 and almost 1.
We had dinner at Culver's and afterwards we stopped in a parking lot and watched the planes come in for the EAA AirVenture Convention, which starts tomorrow. Then we headed to my house for a bit.
And let me tell you, considering they were only here for 45 minutes, my apartment looked like a tornado swept through it. I don't have many kids' toys, but what I do have? Yeah, scattered throughout the apartment. And I totally do not have a baby-proof apartment. All over there were CDs or picture frames or remote controls piled on tall pieces of furniture, like CD towers, out of the reach of an 11-month old.
Then there's the drool. It seems wherever I walk, I step in a semi-moist spot of carpeting, a byproduct of a teething, drooling 11-month old.
I love the Rugrats dearly, but I can honestly say, I was glad to see them go home tonight, clutching their sippy cups of ice water and Ziploc baggies of animal cookies.