No place like home

When I walk in the door from my once-weekly day at the office, I am usually greeted with big smiles (from the kids, anyway) and tackle-hugs. I get home late, right before the kids' bedtime. Some days Daddy looks a little wearier than others, depending on the amount of whining, number of times he had to remind about "head and neck safety," and how long it took to make dinner.

Today was a good one, thanks to Grandma and Papa providing tacos for dinner, a helpful big brother, and a good nap for Bitty Girl.

With a series of hugs, pointing, and monosyllabic grunting orders, Bitty Girl instructed me to take off my coat, come into the family room and lie down on the floor. She pulled up my shirt and proceeded to blow a huge zerbert into my stomach. Luckily Mommy has a FABULOUS tummy for zerberts, what with all the nooks and crannies and soft squishiness... Many zerberts and a few head butts later, she was ready for the "fly like an airplane on Mommy's legs" game.

When the Zerbert Boss finally retired to her crib for the evening, I had time for a quick dinner and stories with The Boy before his bedtime. He was examining a Valentine card he got at school, one of those hard cards with a textured surface, where the picture changes as you tip the card back and forth--it's a duck! Now it's a dog! Now a duck! Dog! And you can't help but rub your fingernail across it to make that scratchy zoop! sound.

As we're heading upstairs, The Boy says, "Wow, this card is scratchy.

But not as scratchy as Mommy's legs!"

This is the stuff that's not in the parenting books. It should be in there. But it wouldn't be the same reading about it before you have your own little monsters commenting on the length of your leg hair...