Late (as usual these days) I rush into the living room and hurry to finish stuffing my things into my backpack.
"Hugs. Hugs. Come on guys, I'm running late!" I urge my little guys, who are slouched in just their underroos, watching some kids learning show hosted by a blue mouse. The teenagers are sleeping in. (Last days of summer vacation and I don't have the heart to wake them).
No one hurries to this urgent request, of course, because Mommy is always running behind in the morning. My battle with morning time is well known, as is the fact that I lose this battle 9 times out of 10.
Hubby walks into the hall and saunters over in a silly dance move to give me my hug. Holy Terror decides he's a bunny and proceeds to hop over for his. Super Wy slides off and stalks over to me on his "clawed feet" with his head bobbing in a terrifying raptor way and gives me his hug.
"Bye guys, love you!" I open the door to leave.
Two "byes" and a roar answers my call.