Aliens. It’s gotta be aliens.

I can’t think of another explanation.

My wife had to go to work early this morning (pre-dawn) and was out of the house before I had even gotten to the shower. This meant I had three little critters to get up, dressed, fed, and to school.

My little Calvin look-alike? “May I please change clothes now?”

My grumpy bear, who usually requires a sonic boom to get out of bed? Up and walking without me even turning his light on.

Breakfast, which usually resembles the Super Bowl in terms of yardage, went easily. Both boys agreed (instantly) on waffles.

My oldest got himself dressed with no assistance in about twelve seconds, I think he set a Personal Best for that one.

The baby wandered out after the boys ate, announced she wet her bed, and then got dressed with a minimum of fuss.

Everyone had their homework already in their backpacks and was waiting by the door. A child took out some trash to the outside can for me. Dropping off went well, the baby gave me an extra hug and a laugh.

And the best part of all?

If my wife ever reads this post she will be royally pissed because I bet tomorrow we’re back to normal, and she missed it…

,

Why didn’t I think of this sooner?

*smacks head*

I’ve figured out how to get Tom Cruise to go back home to his baby. And it was inspired by yet another one of those Exxon/Mobil boycott e-mails.

Here’s the plan: Nobody go to see this weekend! Let the opening weekend pass, then go see it if you must. But it must not be the top of the box office, because if it is ol’ Tommy will feel totally justified abandoning his girlfriend and newborn baby hours after birth to globe-trot and play big-shot celebrity.

Pass this on to your friends! If we all tell thirty people, it just might work.