for an ordinary day.
A day in which the children slept in late after listening to Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
’til after midnight.
A day in which the baby pottered and drew and ate twiglets, drank from a cup, almost said blackbird and was a joy to be around.
A day in which Small and I fell out, and made up. In which he showed the worst and the best of himself, and I’m afraid I may have done to.
A day in which Big forgot that she’d ever seen long division, but redeemed herself by washing the windows to fundraise for her guides’ charity drive.
A day in which we walked, they swam, I tweeted, they played, I cooked, they ate, I washed, he washed up, we just lived.
It’s late. I’d like to be sleeping. The youngest of the lovely children is still bouncing around, at the moment hitting Tim with books that she lets him start reading, but never finish. We’re trying to watch CSI (ooh, Starbuck!) but I’m struggling to pay any kind of attention, and while I’d like be blogging some of the many reviews and other interesting posts that spring to mind, I don’t think they’d be very coherent.
So that’s your lot. A couple of hundred words that will hopefully remind me of a day. An ordinary day.
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