Scene 1:

I’m sitting on the toilet, it’s 5:00 AM. No lights, trying not to disturb anyone who is sleeping.

I fart.**

The dog comes running in from the other half of the house, acting like she hasn’t seen me in months and OH MY GOD HERE YOU ARE!

Scene 2:

Sitting at breakfast, and the oldest comes running in with underwear over his head and face, yelling “this is an armed robbery, hands up!”

“Uh, why aren’t your hands up?”

“Because you have underwear on your head.”

Scene 3:

My youngest boy loves to belt out “You’re a grand old flag” at the top of his lungs while getting dressed. And you thought they don’t teach them anything useful in school.

** note: the fart was the foghorn kind, not the bog of eternal stench kind. Not that the dog would care.