The boys are gone to my parents' house on a PTO day, which should mean that I can string a few coherent thoughts together, but that may be reaching on my part. A PTO day is a rare chance for me to work on projects I enjoy (like quilting), to clean and tidy without my work being instantly undone, or to talk with other adults. Because it's always refreshing to have a whole conversation that does not consist of sentences punctuated with forceful adverbs. Stop that right now. Finish your work immediately. Apologize nicely.
What I mostly do is just enjoy the quiet, a rare commodity on most days. If you don't know them in real life, well... the boys are what you might graciously call lively. In actual fact, taken together they're really more of a force of nature than just regular people.
All it takes for chaos to descend is a few unsupervised moments with a Mad-Libs book. Those sunny-faced, denim-jumpered homeschool moms who champion the educational value of these books (nouns! verbs! adverbs! adjectives!) clearly underestimate the potential here for my boys. Oh, their vocabulary is enhanced, all right. They can describe bodily functions the way Eskimos can describe snow.
Why, why, why is that such a central part of life for boys?
When they're being really polite at least they'll warn you. I was in the mudroom with Gunnar this morning, getting ready to take them to Grampa and Gramma's house. He looked at me with concern. Mama, you should hurry. I tooted. No kidding.
They'll be back soon, full to bursting with all the fun they've had, and you know what the first thing they'll say is?