The four year old is playing with a Bart Simpson bottle opener and repeating “Mmmmm, beer!” as he races around the kitchen.
The eight year old is oddly shouting, “S.M.S. Save My Soul!” He claims he made it up.
The nine year old just said that cheeseburgers are his favorite food, and pasta second, after nine years of eating almost only pasta.
The dog spent the late afternoon throwing her body against the pantry door every time we opened the refrigerator, due to the reflection of the sun moving across the room.
My husband keeps wandering through the kitchen reminding me, with a big grin on his face, of the roses he sent me for Valentine’s Day.
And I keep reminding myself that during our last three-day weekend, the four year old almost set our house on fire with a Superball.
This weekend is going relatively well.