Grateful Friday

I am grateful for this time with our kids.  Yesterday found us in the van together.

Braeden was feeling huffy (or as huffy as Braeden gets which is not very huffy) because as he called it, Emma and Mark were staging a coup and usurping his power as the oldest.

Mark was in charge of the music.  He had an eclectic mix like only he can create:  R.E.M., Yo Yo Ma, Johnny Cash, The Eagles, The Temptations.

We were in Provo so Braeden pointed out the hospital where he was born. He asked me if it was the best hospital (because naturally it would be if he were born there). I told them the hospital where Emma was born was the best one.  Yale New Haven Hospital for the win.  Mark said, "But I was born in a hospital run by nuns.  No one knows how to give birth like nuns."

Time spent with them is time spent trying to keep up with the repartee.  If the goal is to make me laugh, they are all very very good at it.

At one point, I said, "I only had one kind of kid:  weird."

Emma said, "Hey."  Then, "Nah, that's true."

The only thing that makes it better is when Adam is home from work.