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This morning I was very tired. No particular reason, just sunday morning tired.

The boys weren't, they never are.

They ran all over the house making a mess and tons of noise. But I was just in one of those tired states where the bed magnet was stronger than I was. So to try and occupy them I invited the boys to climb in a tent built of our bed spread. It didn't work at first. Michelle even made fun of me for being lazy--that only works on someone if they have any pride left, so I kept inviting the boys to build a tent.

And then they did. We sat in that tent for probably 20 minutes making up stories about hiking to the top of the second highest mountain in the world and camping in the cold. And then in our imaginations we took a long voyage to the strait of Magellen where we crossed over to Antarctica and played with penguins and sea lions on frozen beaches. Under the blanket the sunlight would come through the lighter parts of the plaid mesh creating a cool alien sky above us. It wouldn't be a good little boy adventure if a small litter of kitties weren't born in the middle of it all. That in particular kept Calvin's imagination occupied.

I'll never forget little mornings like this with my family.