My grandmother (to whom I owe thank you notes, yes, yes, must write thank you notes) sent Rebecca a package of four little mirror/makeup compact playthings with a sticker where the makeup would be. I headed upstairs to take care of chores while the kids divvied up the loot.

When I came back downstairs from folding the laundry, both of them were on their backs on the carpet racing lights across the ceiling. “Look, Mom, a video game on the roof!”

At the end of my rope, I say to Marcus, “Throw on a pair of shoes and go outside.” From the general direction of the kitchen, I hear a thud, then an “ow!”, then a thud, then another “ow!”. This goes on for a minute or so.

“Mom, you can’t throw on a pair of shoes. It’s impossible.”