I'm dog tired. The dog is, well, dog tired. When I took this picture of me, she glared at me with utter disdain for disturbing her. She is tired and wants only to curl up on her smelly Spiderman beanbag chair to go to sleep. So that she can later keep me awake at 2:45 in the morning with the wet, slurping sound of her licking her smelly Spiderman beanbag chair. I love this dog, but sometimes I just cannot figure her out. Licking something redolent and delicious? Yup. I get it. Licking this beanbag that I can hardly stand to keep in the same room that I breathe in? Nope. Don't get it.
The homework is done and checked. The dishwasher is running so that I can empty it and my children can ignore its presence yet again tomorrow. The dog has had her last outing to the yard. Facebook has been quieted for the night. Three of my four children are tucked safely in their beds. I am about to go chase my oldest son out of the shower and tell him that water doesn't grow on trees. Or something like that. Then I will accept his wet-headed hug and send him off to bed. Shortly thereafter I will send myself toward bed.
It's been a good day. Nothing extraordinary, but good nonetheless. Sometimes ordinary has its own magic.
Thanks for sticking with me. Sleep well, friends.
*Thanks to Chris from Notes From the Trenches for the inspiration. I shamelessly stole the idea for this day from her.
