Well, work has certainly calmed down since yesterday.
And thank goodness, because we have been some busy mofo's lately. My boss, that I was supposed to relieve, has returned, and still will not leave. After I ran the show for two weeks underway, he comes back, ready to work, because he's been screwing off for two weeks instead of standing watch and working 18 hours a day.

But I'm not bitter. I like to be told to do things I already know I have to do. I especially like to be berated and questioned about things I did while he was off sleeping late and terrorizing his family. No, really, I like that sort of thing

So anyway...
I went home and everyone was out in the front yard, including several small blond neighbor kids. They were all running and playing, while my weird little son pushed his scoot-on car around the yard, mowing the grass. He has a real love-hate relationship with lawnmowers. He loves to play with pretend ones-- he has a little green one he uses, and every time we go to the toy store he grabs one to push around. But real lawnmowers send him running for the front door or to me or my wife.
"Noisy, huh?" I ask him.
"Uh huh, Don't gike dat lawnmoomoo", he answers. That's pretty much how he speaks--it's really tadpolean, not english.
He feels the same way about big trucks--he loves the little toy ones and can't get away from big ones fast enough. I think he likes the little ones so much because they allow him to control these things he fears so much. He can toss them around, crash them, and make all the loud noises himself.
The girls are actually pretty good tonight, too
Granted, the long haired one has to go hang out in her room and then eat dinner alone because she doesn't want to be civil. Then we do have to fight with her to get her to use her brain on her homework, but I swear it didn't seem like they were that bad. Eventually, we all watch a movie on disney called The Thirteenth Year about a boy who turns into a Merman during puberty, but the girlies have to go to bed at 8:00 and can't finish it. It's pretty good, so we promise to let them stay up and watch it this weekend. I read Chapter 4 of Black Beauty to them and tuck them in for the night.
Bed early.
My wife was tired and cranky all night, and I was pretty much the same--maybe even more so. I softly scratch her back while we watch most of Will and Grace, and we decide to go to bed. So we end up in bed before ten o'clock, which is just freakish. The boy, who sleeps with us, is rumbly and doesn't want to sleep. Eventually, though, he does, and so do I.