Friday, April 20, 2012


Yesterday, I looked around my house, surveyed my four children, and couldn't for the life of me figure out what was missing. It took me a minute to realize what I was hearing: nothing. It was completely quiet, a rarity in my house.

Abby was reading an abridged version of "Don Quixote." And despite the fact that I took a picture of her curled up on the couch doing just that, it seems to have been sucked into the great void of cyberspace. So you'll have to trust me on that one.
 Max had swiped one of my shirts and was wearing it with the sleeve over his head. He would then proceed to jump off the couch and yell "Super Max to the rescue!"
 Ashlynn was diagramming sentences.
And Ian had a bucket on his head.

So the house was blessedly, peacefully quiet. For about 3.2 seconds, at which time Ian tripped on something because there was a bucket on his head and he couldn't see where he was going, Max started screaming because he was done wearing a shirt on his neck, and the girls started whining for lunch. 

But I enjoyed those few seconds...

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