I want to introduce you to some more of my kids.
Well, they're not technically mine.
I didn't give birth to them.
I didn't diaper any of them.
But I love 'em like they're mine.
In fact, back in the day, when Tim, Zack and Mike (the one I really did birth) would all crash in my family room, I would come down in the morning and have to check faces to see who was who.
I couldn't visibly discern the difference between my own boy child and these other boy children.
It's easier to just love them all.
I was rummaging around in my archives this evening and came across these photos from last summer.
It was a nasty 485˚ in Fargo-Moorhead, and the air at home just wasn't cuttin' it anymore.
The kids and I set off in search of someone else's air and ice-cold coffee.
As we always did, we'd find a game and start.
And the times we didn't find a game?
One of us would pull a deck of cards out and find something else to keep score on.
My kids and I are cool like that.
Or maybe I'm just teaching them to be old.
I'm sure it's the former.
If there weren't cards, we'd take whatever pieces of games we could find and make up rules.
It's good to encourage kids to be creative.
So let's meet the kids, shall we?
That's Tim on the far left. (HI, TIM!)
Zack is in the middle, about to catch something in his mouth. (HI, ZACK!)
Emily is in the middle, to Zack's left. (HI, EMILY!)
The thing that struck me about these is the transition of expressions on Emily's face as the game progresses.
You know what she's thinking.
"This might be kinda funny."
"OK, I'm not going to spoil the fun."
"You realize that hundreds of people have touched those frogs, right?"
"Seriously. What is wrong with you?"
"Did you see that? What the hell is wrong with that boy?"
"Oh, we're doing this again? OK, I'll just go over the steps for CPR in my head and figure out how to get you to suck on a Clorox wipe."
And that, my friends, is the difference between boys and girls.