At 5 pm Sunday night the big kids were hurtling around the house naked except for the blankets they wore over their heads. They left me random secret messages in among the rubble that was once my house. And I ate a bowl of cereal…. because I knew the dinner in the oven quite possible wasn’t edible.
Is your life wonderfully, crazily, impossibly, perfectly imperfect too?
Post an image, some words or both on your blog. Post every day, or just once, or whenever you like. There are no rules… just add the link to your post below so we can celebrate each other!