Rest for the weary

by guest author, Farm Boy

Some days are better than others. Some days, I just wake up and decide to be as destructive as possible. I know I’m not allowed to sneak into my sister’s room and dump three trays of beads all over the floor … but the sounds and sights of thousands of beads bouncing on wood is amazing. Truly—it’s awesome!

And those colorful markers. After a couple of recent fiascos, Mommy put them in a plastic container out of my reach. But you see, as a three-year-old, it’s my job to find the nearest stool and attempt to reach those things. When I succeed, I rejoice—I’m ecstatic!

Sorry if my arms were scribbled with brown marker. It washes off, remember?

Sorry if the blue marker accidentally scribbled all over the walls. It washes off, remember? Oh, you remember. You’re still not happy about it. Uh-oh.

Like I said, some days are better than others. Like today, when I  had to sit on a bean bag while Mommy folded laundry. After I was done crying about all the things I could be doing instead of sitting still, I started to realize sitting on a bean bag is pretty relaxing.

My eyes got heavy, my blanket felt all cuddly and soft … and …