Last 24 Hours Since

Last night I slept and slept and didn't wake up until there was a knock on our front door. In fact, the whole household slept through the filtered morning sunshine, beeping alarms and eager birdies in the backyard.

The knock came
from my nephew who sweetly arrives every morning to pick up the girls for school. I had to answer the door in my green robe, hasty ponytail and hesitant voice. It was to be a short day at school, a prelude to the holiday weekend. Everyone knows that not much goes on the day before break. And quite honestly, I've collected enough Thanksgiving arts, crafts and painted pasta placed on string a la festive Native American necklaces for one holiday. So I told him to go ahead without us, we'd sit this one out.

But as soon as the door shut, Jane's eyes opened. She protested, whined and cried out at the injustice of me deciding her educational fate for the day. If there is a social call, Jane will respond. Kindergarten is right up her alley. Friends, snacks, cute little poems recited out loud . . . not one day can be missed! So my green robe and I started up the cold car, with a hot red head ready for the short day, and dropped her off at school.

Claire, on the other hand, was gratuitously kind to me for keeping her home. She created a blog with Aunt Lizzy who came to Retro House with a box of orange sugar cookies. Ollie licked his frosting (What? There is a cookie under there?) and wandering around the house in his Spidey costume making the sound affects that correlate with saving the day.

Fshhhhhshsh! Caw! Caw! Caw!

My Chief woke up with pink cheeks and swirly hair. We both begged Daddy to not leave for work which is practically a morning ritual. Sometimes I wonder if all wives have to put on a brave face when their husbands go to work. I am a homebody who can justify staying home any day of the week, and I can't help but persuade other family members to do the same. Every day should be a stay-at-home day, a day for coloring, books and home-bound projects. Work only disturbs family time, that necessary-paycheck-producing evil (for which I am so grateful).

After Dad's car disappeared down the street, we had no choice but to color and read books (and save the day some more) without him. When Jane came home (happily smarter than yesterday, and loaded up with more construction papered feathers), Christian treated us to Jambas and a trip to the pharmacy. Could one afternoon contain so much excitement?

We wrote stories.

The Chief napped.

Ollie and I played bad guy/ good guy. Why do I always have to be the bad guy?

Ate cinnamon bread.

And so the day continued until Dad's car returned in our driveway. He made a yaki soba dinner while I attempted puzzles with Jane. For dessert we played with the children a homemade game involving turkeys, eagles and pillows being thrown. When the last turkey was gobbled, we read from the Book of Mormon and talked about sixteen stones and Jesus Christ. By the last verse, two out of four children had to be scooped up to bed. The very place I am also headed as soon as I press "Publish Post."

And now we've come full circle.

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