I made breakfast pizza as part of dinner one night. After tasting it, Joe ventured apologetically, "Mommy, sorry about this, but ... I'm not a big fan of pizza with scrambled eggs."
Having sent the boy to his room to clean, I noticed it was mysteriously quiet. I looked up to see him standing in his doorway. "Joe, are you cleaning up, or are you playing?" In a disappointed tone he replied, "How did you know who I was? I'm wearing a hat and sunglasses!"
And on the subject of cleaning, I sent him upstairs to bring his laundry down so that I could sort it, wash it, dry it, and fold it. As he lugged the hamper down the stairs he sighed wearily,
|This is a picture from our recent trip to pick strawberries: more on that later!|