Disclaimer: JE owns them. I do not.
"Papa, Momma said to ask you if Sammy could spend the night tonight," my seven-year-old daughter said as she came storming into my office. "So can she?"
I thought for a minute. If we took Sammy for the night, Tank and Lula could have the night off, and maybe they would return the favor another night and keep Sophie and Ricky for us.
"She may," I told her, smiling.
"Thanks, Papa!" she screamed as she ran out of the room.
I laughed. She was so full of energy that even I had trouble keeping up with her sometimes.
I walked into the kitchen to find Sophie on the phone with Sammy and Steph setting out plates for lunch.
"Babe, where will Sammy sleep?"
"He can sleep on the lower bunk in Sophie's room. They're young enough that it'll be fine."
"Are you sure you're up for company? You haven't been feeling well the last few weeks."
"I'm good, Carlos. I feel much better today. I haven't needed to lie down yet today, which is a definite improvement over the last couple of weeks."
Just then, our four-year-old son came careening around the corner on his Big Wheel, singing, "Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream!" at the top of his lungs.
I couldn't help but laugh.
Life doesn't get much better than this.