Welcome to summer 2014, where the kids are old enough to play in the fenced backyard without constant hovering supervision as long as the pool isn't inflated. It's glorious. I mean, I still have every single chore I had over the winter and spring, and then some (hello dirt and sunscreen residue on every available surface!) but NOW I can tackle those without three sets of feet running past me at warp speed. I can actually walk from one room to the other and return to find it not destroyed. It may be the Twilight Zone around here.
Of course with the summer, which has finally arrived after an exceptionally cold spring, comes the humidity and air you could cut with a knife. And that makes for cranky kids about 1 p.m., so I wasn't surprised when Lily came stomping in the living room where I was folding towels, hair plastered back from her face with sweat, little fists clenched, jaw set.
"I quit!" she announced upon seeing me. I blinked.
"You - quit?"
"Because ANNA drank all the water!" she protested, motioning to one of the six million cups that float around this house in their own orbit. This one was empty. "Now I don't have any!"
Oh, the warped sense of justice you have when you're almost three. (Almost three. How did that happen?)
"Well, don't quit. I'll get you some more." I abandon the towels, pick up the cup and walk into the kitchen, grouchy preschooler hot on my heels, a skeptical look on her face. I filled the cup, put the top back on and handed it to Lily, who took a long drink and grinned up at me, all traces of angst gone.
"Fank you, Mama!" she said joyfully, then handed me the cup and went back outside to join her sisters, the screen door slamming loudly behind her.
Well at least she decided to stay.