Of Giants

So, all of a sudden we have at least two giants living in the house with us. I don't know where they came from or exactly when they arrived, but they're here. One of them is mean, and the other one is nice. Lucia hears the Mean Giant very frequently. Usually at dinner time. She'll whisper, "Mama, I have to tell you something in your ear." *pulls my head closer* "I hear the Mean Giant. He's coming." Sometimes she says he's going to hurt me (though she doesn't seem particularly phased by any of her imagination), sometimes she says he's stuck somewhere. The other day we closed him into the guest bedroom (since he's unable to open the door). Tonight at dinner, she told me again she heard the Mean Giant. I said, "Oh? Where is he?" Her response: "He's in the toilet and can't get out." Her solution to this dilemma was the Nice Giant. He helped the Mean Giant out of the toilet. Thankfully... I can't imagine what we would have done if he had plugged our pipes. (I'm almost too ... hmm, embarrassed? not the right word... to write the end of her quote, but I figure I should capture this part of her imagination too (and I apologize in advance for the impropriety of it). Anyway, I asked Lucia what the Mean Giant was doing in the toilet, and she responded, "He is eating poopies." (sorry. not sure where that came from. again... thankfully the Nice Giant helped him out, so that won't be happening anymore.)

On a completely different note: It's 10:20 and I should go to bed. David has been sleeping for over an hour already - he's not feeling well (we passed our colds on to him, sadly enough), and I'm only still up an typing because he's in the guest bed to avoid hearing Rhea tonight and thus getting interrupted sleep. Poor man needs to have energy to work all day. I, on the other hand, get naps. :-)