Sherman wanders over to the drawer where I keep my hot pads and oven mitts. This is not irregular, I frequently have to search my house for hot pads while I’m in the middle of dinner and discover my drawer is empty. He pulls out the oven mitt, and heads straight for the (cold) oven to open it up. The oven is still taller than he is, so he reaches above his head to grab the handle in his awkward over-sized mitted hand, and just about falls over opening it up.
It’s the grandest adventure of the day.
Three year old Ruby runs around the house, buck naked (despite being dressed multiple times today), waving a lightsaber and calling us all bad guys. I ask if she’s Rey, fighting off the Sith.
“No. I’m Dark Vader.”
“So we’re Jedi?”
“No, you’re bad guys.”
Kyle looks over and says, “From my perspective the Jedi are evil!”
She runs off, and zooms back a few minutes later with Sherman hot on her tail.
“I DON’T WANT TO BE ASSAULTED BY A BABY BAD GUY!”