It's summer. We are SOOOOOO off-schedule, it's not even funny.
Actually, it IS funny. And fun.
The kids go to bed by 10pm, we all wake up sometime around 8am. Sometimes 9. And then we lay in bed, all 5 of us and laugh and talk. It's some of my favorite times.
And it's times like this that I'm thankful for a husband with a musician/realtor schedule, whatever that is. He works odd hours, and sometimes long hours, and we miss him for dinner more often, but he's around for morning cuddle time.
Maybe I should be embarrassed that I'm still in bed at 8 or 9. But it's only a season, and I'm determined to enjoy it instead of think about what I could/should be doing instead. It's been special.
Matt and I were talking this morning during said cuddle time and one of us made a comment about rich people having servants. So the inevitable question arose. It's a question that I hear at the very least 37 times each and every day. "What does _(fill in the blank)_ mean?"
"What's a servant, Mom?"
"Well, it's someone who serves you. Someone who does things for you."
"Someone who cooks, maybe, and cleans your house." Matt clarified.
"Ohhhhh. Uh-huh. (In ALL sincerity) So you (gestures to Matt and I) are our servants!"
I laughed until my stomach hurt and I had snot coming out my nose.
I realized later that I never told her why we were laughing so hard.
I never told her that I wasn't her servant.
I just laughed and snorted and finally left the room and went and made some coffee.