Can it be possible that dad arranged for his little angels to be crazy on this fine Father's Day morning; knowing that I would let him sleep, snuggled in blankets, behind a closed door, away from the morning madness?
We have been up a mere moment yet it seems like an entire day. There have been demands for paint, breakfast (no surprise), a broom (my son likes to sweep) and to go outside. All of this and my eyes are barely open. Yet, I am blogging. I have run over here for refuge. They cannot grab me in cyberland. They cannot dictate what I type. Of course, I suppose they do since they are of what I write. Hmmm, it seems the troops have overtaken everything.
In any event, it is Father's Day. Blessed be the men who have fathered children all over the world. Okay, maybe not all of them.
I will say this though, despite the fact that I believe my husband and children have conspired to wreak havoc on my every single morning routine and dwindle my sanity, I adore him. I am honored to share this life with a man so loving and caring that he would take the time to educate his children on how to push mommy's buttons and drive her to blogging about the craziness so early in the morning, when I should be changing a diaper and fixing some eggs. Hey, it could be worse, couldn't it? The liquor cabinet is still closed, and I haven't quoted "it's five o'clock somewhere" yet!
Happy Father's Day!
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