Sunday morning and Mark & I are out cold. Late night movie and a week of activities have taken their toll.

Usually, Nate jumps into bed with us to cuddle and talk…a lot.  Zeke bellows from his bedroom, “Mooooooommmmyyyyy…..Daaaaaaddddddyyyyyy….” until the loser of the “No, it’s YOUR turn to get him” contest shuffles into his room to make the bad noise stop. This morning? Nothing. Not a sound. So I dismiss the “What if they were abducted?” thoughts from my head and go back to sleep.

(Drip, drip, drip) on my face.


“Yes, Nate?”

“I ate breakfast, but I’m still hungry.”

“OK…what’s dripping on my face?”

“Water from my face.”

“Why is there water on your face?”

“Because I’m all wet.”

“Nate, why are you all wet?” (please don’t let it be pee…please don’t let it be pee…)

“Zeke and I had a water fight.”

“With what?”


“I got that…HOW did you fight with water?”

“With water guns and sprayers.”



“Nate? Is the house all wet?”

“Not All of it…”


“At least it isn’t pee.” Is what I say to myself all day long, so things don’t seem so bad.