You know how most of the time you feel like a pretty smart cookie. And then one night you go out to Cracker Barrel with your family and your children get all the way down to two or three pins left in that addicting little pin game. This means they're geniuses. It says so on the game. And you all start talking about how funny it would be if someone got stuck with "like, ten or something" pins. And you all laugh. And then you take the game from your seven-year-old 'cause you're going to show everyone just how smart you are. You're going to whup up on that game. And then you realize you're stuck with ten pins left. And the board doesn't even tell you what this means. But it can't be good. So you laugh. And you celebrate your accomplishment. Because, well, what else can you do?
My children are smarter than me.
Oh, and P.S. Please don't judge. This is what I look like after a long day of traveling. Sitting in between two boys on the third row bench seat, feet resting sometimes on, sometimes under the dog's back end, leaning forward to tickle/plug/soothe the baby. I may not look so good, but it was a good day. And I got to eat french toast at the end of it. Yippee!
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