I am sitting here, debating if I should take a shot of NyQuil (‘cause I really want some good zzzs tonight) and thinking about Merrill’s last words to me, before he went downstairs to our comfy, warm, and oh so good smelling bed (because today was also sheet washin’ day around here as well as “clean house Monday”.. and while I am at it, while I am in parenthesis, let me just say that having 3 sick kiddos home on clean house Monday, makes for the cleaning to take 3 times as long.). He looked at me and said, “Were you going for the Marilla Cuthbert look today?”
And as I looked back at him, with that little smirk on his face, I knew what I was thankful for today.
We really didn’t have an activity, per se, for FHE tonight. It kind of just happened. As I was playing with the girls, teasing and chasing, it suddenly turned into a wrestling match with mom. A wrestling match where they were burying me with pillows and blankets and beanbags.. and their bodies. When I would take one of them under the pile with me as a victim or hostage (whichever what you look at it), a plea for help would go out amid giggles to the sisters left on the outside, and then to dad.
(He is good at rescuing.)
We laughed, and laughed, and laughed. I was thankful that there really wasn’t an activity planned, that we can just be together and the fun happens.
At the end of this day, I am thankful for my messy, Marilla Cuthbert-like hair.
(I bet you are so sad there isn’t picture proof, huh?)