John comes running to tell me he stayed in his bed all night
... and I find a wet pile of jammies and undies on his floor.
We all head to confession and manage to arrive five minutes early
... and the line is so long we turn around and go home.
We manage to produce a great Christmas photo this year
... and I still spend hours wrestling with Christmas card software.
I decide to make cookies to ease a little stress
... and we're out of eggs.
We borrow two from our ever-so-generous neighbor
... and Ainsley drops one on the floor.
So we borrow a third egg
... and I sit here consuming vast amounts of batter.
Ainsley wakes up from her nap a touch out of it
... and wants nothing more than to
rest her head in my lap.
She goes from out of it to green
... and vomits all over me and the study.
She gets a clean shirt
... and then says, "I didnt mean to do that to you pants. But it's okay."
John brings in something of Kolbe's
... and says, "I swung it around and around and broke it to pieces."
Ainsley comes in the room looking a little less wan
... and tells me, "I want a candy cane."
Life ... sometimes sticky, occasionally smelly, somewhat unpredictable, teaming with brightness.