Poor people of America

Its funny to hear Dar singing actual words to Winnie the Pooh. They are audible, but I doubt anyone else but me can understand her.

Today is the poor ritual. Although we aren't as poor as we used to be, I have to walk into the WIC office to get tortured, nasty looks from the staff, (minus one, I think she's actually there for the greater good) and admitting that you are in need of help. How humbling. More like fight and scream, all the while trying to keep all three kids contained in one little room, without stepping on other peoples toes as well. And it's snowing! Okay, time for a little attitude adjustment, I am grateful for these services, my kids love to meet other people and their kids, and I get to show off handling 3 kids that usually behave. They sing, they dance, they usually make the other kids laugh, which is a huge load off the other parents shoulders. Yeah, okay, maybe I can go into this with the right heart. And maybe I can show my archenemy of a social worker what God is all about.

I got to go. My daughters just drew on the front window with cheese.