hotdogs, homework and handmade hilarity

Last night was something else. It was an ordinary evening, but it was something else...  I picked up the kids from school. They complained about the snacks I brought them in the car.  Lucy said hers was "duschusting."  Coen said he didn't really like those bars anymore.  Then they both ate them, leaving their wrappers on the seats.  At home, they had a light saber battle outside and wanted me to join in.
"I don't wanna!" I whined. "I'm cold!"
"But Mommy!" Lucy said, waving her purple light saber around, "If you move around, you'll warm up!"
True.  So I battled Coen at Lucy's side and she told me that she was Princess Leia and I was Princess Abidabi. 

After a while I left them there to play while I made dinner.  Squash soup and pigs in a blanket made with chicken sausage from Outpost instead of hot dogs.  This was also proclaimed "duschusting" by Lucy, but she did like her macaroni and cheese.  (Made for those who don't like squash soup, approximately half of our family-the smaller half.)

After dinner the cable guy came to fix our ailing internet.  Tad and I told Coen he had to do his homework and he slunk down on the couch with his Star Wars book, his bones suddenly seemingly melted away in anguish.    But he settled in and Lucy joined him.  Tad and I listened to Van Morisson and offered occasional subtraction and addition help.

And something about it. The music playing and the kids working together, showing each other their problems.  Sitting with Tad in the warmth of our house. The cable guy chatting amicably.  It just felt impossibly cozy and lovely and wonderful.  Just being a parent of kids doing homework and having household repairs done and being together.  I felt in love with my life.

And the kids finished their homework right when the cable guy finished fixing it up and they wanted to show him what they'd done and we chatted about his kids and their homework. Then Coen took him in the playroom and he so very kindly obliged a tour of Coen's Lego creations.  He showed us a picture of a Lego Batman he'd made.  And as I took Lucy up to bed, Tad got on the phone and called the cable company to compliment the service and personality of our technician. 

As Lucy picked out her clothing, she got upset because she wanted to wear a sweatshirt with a pocket that went all the way through but NOT the Packer sweatshirt and that was the ONLY sweatshirt with a POCKET that went ALL THE WAY THROUGH! 
"Can you sew me a heart and a star over the Packers?" She asked me.
"Well, I suppose I could." I said.
"Can you cut the hood off? I don't want a hood." She said.
"Sure." I said.
"Okay. Can you do it now?"
"Now!"
But I did do it then.  I tucked her in bed and she was still awake when it was done so I showed it to her.  She snuggled happily under her covers and I kissed her goodnight.
Coen, inspired by Lucy, asked if I could make him a shirt.  "Of a Chic." He said.  Coen is nine and talks in strange words and there a lot of talk of a Chic and a Moose and a Mole in our house.  And it's running rampant through Ms. Wendy's class. 
"Well, you'll have to draw me a chic." I said.
And so he did.
And I made him a shirt, by his design.

Here are my kids, in their creations, this morning before school.  I hope someday in teenagerhood, they remember this evening of creativity...and that it affects them.

Tad laughed on his way out the door this morning. "If there's any monkey business in school today due to that shirt, Miss Wendy will know who to blame!" He said.
"There won't be any monkey business, will there Coen?" I said.
"What!" Coen protested.  "Me? Monkey business?!"

I guess we'll see at 3:30 if the boy doth protest...