All ready for Norman Rockwell to paint their portrait. The Saturday Evening Post never looked so good.
What am I to do with these boys?
We all slept in this morning. Jamie's been sick which has thrown us all off a bit. It was nice to gather 'round the table and eat our cream of wheat together (cream of wheat feels so good on a sore throat). I seized the moment and asked Aidan to read our Jesse Tree devotion for us. We're a couple of days behind. I pushed back the guilt and enjoyed the moment instead. The sun poured through the kitchen window and we were warmed, inside and out.
* * * * *
Aidan's plunking away at "Up on the Housetop." He's wearing a Superman cape. The girls are wildly giggling in their room and most likely not making their beds like they're supposed to. Drew is noisily shooting hoops on the nerf thing.
My guess is that one-fourth of my children have followed the instructions to brush their teeth this morning. I better look into this.
Maizy is blissfully alternating between snoozing in a patch of sunlight and chewing on her rawhide chip. She's got it good.
We really should be doing math or something. That probably means I should step away from the computer and get dressed. Or something.
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