As I tried to take advantage of my children's simultaneous nap, I said a quick prayer that no one was disturbed. There was the punding of the excavator, the drilling of the thingamajig, and the everpresent beep, beep, beeping of the trucks.
Of course, that was immediately followed by yet another familiar sound coming from upstairs:
"Trac-tor. Trac-tor."
Mother and son are now blogging together.
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