The other day Sir O burst into the laundry room where I was buried and told me I needed to "come, come, come, come, quick mom!" I came upstairs and discovered that all the boys in the house had decided that it was the birthday of some puppy-puppets and were throwing them a birthday party. (In our gentleman's bedroom - by rule a "toy-free" zone.) I fought the urge to get upset about all the things that weren't where they belonged and grabbed the camera instead. I am glad these boys are learning how to make-believe. If I can keep from squelching it, it may prove to be a source of great joy when they need it most.
Learning how to clean up after themselves probably wouldn't hurt either.
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