Hmmm. How to explain this one? Brad says it has something to do with male-dom, about building things up and knocking them down -- some defending the caveman gibberish. All I know is that I was upstairs doing bedtime routine and nursing Cassandra when I heard crash after crash after crash.
But, let me back up.
Last week I brought home some random Styrofoam packing from my office. This was uncharacteristic of me, as usually I am trying to get rid of all the junk in my house not *add* to it. But something about the recent spaceship project called to me.
And now, here is what became of the Styrofoam (in slow motion):