I changed back into pajama sweats because Grace and I decided to paint her playhouse.
"Wait," You say. "I thought you briefly mentioned that Grace's playhouse is a cardboard box." That is mostly correct. Ten points. See picture of said box:
So after our paint job, a coloring spree, and when Claire got sick of watching us...
we had crafted a crude masterpiece. I wonder how long it will survive the brutality of Grace-play.