This morning while I was in bed willing myself to wake up (I found super high thread count sheets on mega sale two Christmases ago, and now every morning is a battle), Jesse was getting ready for a field trip (sort of), and Oliver was roaming through the house looking for trouble.
Jesse had prepared himself a nice, triple stack PB&J for lunch. That sounds like a lot, right? It is. He left it sitting on top of his backpack where he would be sure to remember it, and ran back upstairs to grab a couple of things he had forgotten.
He kissed me goodbye, waited for me to say the obligatory morning-of-a-test phrase "Good luck on your test!" (He's become a little supersticious...), and headed towards the door.
The next thing I heard was Jesse saying, "Where's my lunch?!?!"
Then I heard him laugh. A lot.
Which was enough to get me out of bed...I never want to miss out on the fun.
When I reached the bottom of the stairs, Oliver met me, smacking his lips and saying, "I'm eating peanut butter and jewwy for breakfast, mom! I WOVE peanut butter and jewwy!"