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Hole In The Wall

Our house was brand new when we moved in about three years ago.

Bright and shiny like a new penny and no one had lived here before us.

Every weekend, we would all pile into the van and take the trip to see the progress on the house being built just for us.

We have pictures of the piece of land we bought with no house on it. We have pictures of the house when it was just a skeleton of what it is now.

We excitedly awaited the time we would be able to move in and make it our home.

In the three years we've lived here, we've certainly done that.

Considering the boys' destructive abilities, I'm surprised the house hasn't crumpled down upon us. Not that they haven't tried to do just that either.

Little Sneezy has approached toddlerhood and life has been a little more hectic. Trying to keep those chubby, baby fingers from reaching for everything is a full-time job.

One evening after dinner, Sneezy took a cup full of water that was sitting on the table and poured it onto the kitchen floor.

I asked Bashful to get a towel and wipe it up because our floor gets quite slippery when wet and I don't want to have to take anyone to the ER.

Of course, the job didn't get done and the floor remained wet.

Bashful and Grumpy had just made plans to do something together that made Grumpy quite delirious with excitement. He made a flying leap toward the stairs and landed into the wall thanks to the still wet floor.

There is now a hole in the wall.

About the size of Grumpy's head.

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