(this picture was taken yesterday, on my kitchen countertop)
I think I remember giving birth to four children. Meaning there should be eight hands, forty fingers, ready to help me make dinner every night.
But somehow, when the cool breeze is bl0wing through the trees and the chains of schoolwork have been flung aside, all those hands, fingers and toes head out the back door to find adventure of a different kind.
And Lego guy and I are left to make dinner all by ourselves.