Why, oh why do all of my children have the sillies today?
They are bouncing all over the house like Tiggers (boom-boom-boom on the old pier and beam). They are bursting into rather jarring forms of laughter at the slightest provocation. They are goosing each other all sneaky-like. At present they are trying very hard to get through their readaloud assignment of Sir Walter Scott's The Antiquary, but today he's suddenly just hilariously funny and melodramatic.
We are getting nothing done. But they are all smiling infectiously and way happy.
I give up. I give in. I think I'll go blow raspberries at them and bounce around the den for no reason at all. Spuddy probably needs to be tickled till he can't breathe. Fa could definitely benefit from encountering a sheeted ghoul exploding out of the hall closet. And The Shieldmaiden might need some ice down the back of her shirt...