Rosy woke in the night crying.
Dave went in to her, to soothe.
The resulting screams led me to believe he was unsuccessful.
His voice, "Annie, you might want to come here."
Rosy was sitting up in bed sobbing. Dave was kneeling on the ground by her. She had her hand over his nose.
Now, Dave's nose is interesting, but I wouldn't call it frightening.
I got her calmed down after I removed Dave's snoozle. (Dave went with it).
The next morning the mystery was resolved when Rose explained that she was having a nightmare after watching "The Shaggy Dog" and she thought her Daddy's nose looked big and shiny and dogish.
This started my Friday.
I proceeded to get ready for the day as Mom and I had promised to take the kids to the mall for an outing.
Grant came in the room after I was ready and gave me his loving smile.
"You look pretty Mom."
He tilted his head to one side in contemplation and then countered, "Well, nice anyway."
Apparently, pretty was an exaggeration and he didn't want to lie.
The day continued in this strain.
At the mall I heard a man talking to the kids while I was browsing.
He first got the confirmation that they were home schooled, then asked the feared, "So what is your mom teaching you?"
"Ummm I can't remember."
I started browsing farther away. I didn't really want to hear the answers to any more questions.
After we got home and had dinner Grant managed to get a long splinter in his foot.
Dave got a glass of alcohol and dug it out to the sound of Grant's yells.
I tried to reason with him, "Grant, don't you trust your daddy?"
"I trust him, but it still hurts."
The surgery over, I went in the parlor and the kids started to play with the dog in the living room.
Twenty minutes or so later, Rowan came into the parlor choking.
His mouth was gaping and he was drooling worse than a Saint Bernard.
"What was in my cup?"
I looked at him like he was crazy and replied, "Water."
He ran out and put his open mouth under the running spout.
I thought for a moment and then called, "Dave did you throw out that glass of rubbing alcohol?"
If I've taught my children nothing else, (at least that they can remember) I've taught them to laugh.
Our laughter over shaggy dog dads, and looking nice but not pretty, and drinking rubbing alcohol rang out loud on Friday night.
I'm so thankful I have a family that laughs.