Saturday means staying in bed as long as the kids will stand for it. Eventually and reluctantly, their charm wins us over and the bed makes itself just in case Joe and I make a mad dash to get back under the covers.
Then the excruciating prelude to the baseball game ensues.
At long, long last, the time has come to play ball.
And now back to our regularly scheduled program, life after baseball. On tap was frozen yogurt with three toppings, destroying ant hills, putting BIG! BABY! down for a nap and accidentally killing tadpoles with tap water.
But wait, could it be? More baseball it is!
The house, Maltsby and I hung out quietly. Not one fight broke out. I didn’t try to steal Maltsby’s spot in the sun and he didn’t beg me to peel carrots with the good peeler.
Suddenly, the end of the day arrived as miraculously and mysteriously as the morning broke. Poof.