Daycare.

Our last daycare experience was extremely stressful. When it finally came crashing to an end, I was actually kind of relieved. That is, until we began the process of finding a new one. We had the choice between paying $800 a month for our 3-day a week needs (ick) or a really nice woman with a really tiny house. "But James, what if Jonathan gets claustrophobic?" She also likes to go outside a lot. "James, what if Ethan gets a sunburn?" On our way home from meeting her, a ride which I was making much more painful than it should have been, we stopped to buy lemonade from a few girls down the block. Somewhere in the middle of my super-cheap-cause-no-one-thought-to-buy-sugar glass of lemonsour, I had a brilliant idea. "Look, James! That house is huge! They have a huge backyard and playground set and everything! We should ask them if they will babysit for us!" In the end, James convinced me to calm down, we took the boys to the affordable option, and they are loving it. Apparently Jonathan is actually a good boy underneath all his naughty, as Leslie discovered. He actually lays himself down for naps, wipes his nose without protest, and eats his food without throwing any. And so far, no baby sunburn. I guess we made the right choice after all. Even if I did have to spend half an hour and half a bottle of shout on a serious Spaghettio wardrobe malfunction.