Afternoons that are ninety degrees in the shade, when all that will do is having a seat on the porch with a big drippy piece of watermelon. And, if you're Charlie, having you're crotch snaps undone, apparently.
Summer showers that stay just long enough to cool us down, make some puddles to jump in, and a drizzle to dance under.
A brand-spanking-new box of crayons, in all their crayon-smelling glory.
Moments in which my kids actually GET ALONG. They are brief, blink-and-you'll-miss-them moments, but they are there occasionally nonetheless.
The Great Hair Debacle of 2010. Ella decided to brush up on her hair layering technique, and Charlie was the lucky first customer. After having a tiny stroke, I laughed, because what else can you really do when you walk into the room and your four year old is holding a pair of red scissors, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, and your toddler looks like someone took a damn weed whacker to his head? So yes, despite the fact that my one year old will be sporting a buzz cut by the end of the week, this made me happy because after the reprimanding and the "we don't cut ANYone's hair, ever" talk, we all laughed. And laughed some more.
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