As we were driving home from school today, I was explaining that we were all going to go to our individual places for some down time when we arrived home. Campbell hadn’t had a nap and Carson was biting her sister’s head off as soon as she climbed in the car. And I could feel myself starting to break into a momma-may-lose-it-soon sweat.

I proceeded to lay out the parameters for down time – stay in your room and play quietly. If you come out of your room, you must go to bed and nap. Then, of course, they wanted to dissect every possible scenario where it would be acceptable to leave their rooms. In an attempt to squash any ambiguity in the guidelines, I casually commented, “You may only leave your room if you are seriously injured – and there should be blood to show for it.”

Carson retorts dryly, in perfect form, “Perhaps [she really did use perhaps] if we catch on fire we can come out of our rooms.” No smile. Not a hint of laughter – just pensive exhaustion.

I played along, “Yes, after you stop, drop, and roll, you may inform me of your combustion.”

“What are we suppose to do if our head catches on fire? Stop, drop, and roll won’t really work then.” I suggested a headstand and then thought better of it. A flip. A flip would still involve a roll. And so it was settled…