Treasures

Yesterday afternoon Adam woke me from a deep sleep.  I usually don't nap and that's why.  I feel like I have to tunnel up through the sleep to be normal again.

We were going on a drive.  And I wanted to go.  I just didn't want to wake up.

We were in the car about 5 minutes before I felt like talking was an option.

We had a lovely time.  We went to the beach at Birch Bay.  We ate cookies and investigated the crab shells Grandma Geri found.  (Are they called shells?  It sounds nicer than carcasses.)  Adam wowed us with his rock skipping prowess.  He tried some more to teach the kids (apparently it's a hard fought skill to learn).  We sat on the beach and sifted through the rocks and shells for sea glass.  We watched the beautiful sky.

We didn't take the camera because it was MIA from the camping trip (it has since been located...on the floor of the Saturn).

On the drive home Mark fell asleep stretched across the seat with his head hanging off and the seat belt (still attached) twisted around him.

I'm not sure it was very safe.

Braeden and Emma sang Broadway show tunes and Adam and I joined in a little but it's hard to sing when you're laughing.  Braeden and Emma insert enough instrumentation and falsetto goofiness that it brings a whole new level of entertainment to the songs.

When we got home, Adam had a phone call to return, Mark was comatose in his bed and I lay between Braeden and Emma on our bed, waiting for Adam to read scriptures with us.   The phone call lasted long so we entertained ourselves with a newly invented game.  One of us would close our eyes and open our mouth.  The other one would put their finger inside the first person's mouth and try to move it before they were bitten.

I'm not sure it was very safe.

When Adam came upstairs it was evident he thought our game was strange.  I'm not sure why he would think that...

He climbed onto the bed with us.  Somehow (?) the conversation turned to Emma's derision for the scents of men's deodorant:  Arctic Blast, Pure Sport, Swagger.  (Our men are Old Spice men around here.)

She said that women's deodorants are more aptly named.  Lavender smells like... lavender.  They are real smells.

Then, of course because it was late and a goal those three have in life is to make me laugh, Adam and Braeden and Emma came up with other names for deodorant.  They kept coming up with names that were more and more arbitrary.  And I kept laughing more and more.

My favorites:

Pain
Tuesday Afternoon
Nourishment
Window
Freshly Cut Hair

The point of this meandering description of yesterday?

I love my kids.

I love my husband.

I love our life together.