My family left yesterday, and I cried.
This morning Oliver woke me up asking when Grandma and Grandpa were coming to play, and I cried a little more.
It was chilly, so I pulled on my fuzzy robe: grey (...gray?) with white polka dots.
(Incidentally, both "grey" and "gray" are correct ways to spell Orange's favorite neutral color. I checked. Thank you dictionary.com)
I dressed Alice in something soft and warm as well.
(Incidentally, her clothes were also grey with white polka dots.)
We ate frosted flakes for breakfast which, incidentally, are a cure for almost any ailment.
We then spent the entire day in the house, listening to the rain, eating cinnamon rolls, watching entirely too much reality tv, and feeling rather mopey.
Ok, so my children were fine. I was the mopey one.
(Incidentally, I just had a very vivid memory of the the time I learned the word "mope." Second grade. Mrs. Strader's class. Reading circle.)
Tomorrow, it won't be raining. I will get up, replace the robe with something presentable, open the blinds so the sun can get in, and get back to business as usual. There will be no moping.
But, today? Today was grey. Even the sky thought so!
Incidentally, I played along.