Studying Hard

At the times in my life when I've imagined having school-age children, I've always thought I'd have the sort of job that would allow me to be home with them in the afternoons.  I had this sort of dream, that we'd come home, and all sit down at the table and spend an hour working on homework together.  I'm aware that this is the sort of pipe dream that people without school-age children indulge in, but there it was.

Anyway, although I got home at 4:45 yesterday, a little late to be starting homework (if the children had homework, which thankfully they don't), they wanted to play at being in school, and they congregated around the table in a tableau that made the cockles of my heart very warm.*

Margaret wrote a story, as is usual, about her family.  It began "My cousin Nathan is my favorite" and Ellie wrote a list.  It was a series of vertical lines, but she gave it to me to take to the grocery store, because that's where you need lists.

It was all very sweet and wholesome and made me wonder where my real children were.

*This was good, because the temperature was exceptionally low, and my cockles were rather chilled.