The oldest kid just came through the kitchen, to state that he was craving curried chicken.
He was fairly unperturbed when I said we didn't have any.
Do we have any meat? How about bologna?
He would make curried bologna?!
I shudder, even as I laugh out loud.
As I was trying to put that conversation into words, a series of resounding crashes brought me up short.
Brother The Elder was giving Brother The Younger a playful poke in the stomach which caused Brother The Younger to do a backward pelvic thrust... into the kitchen bookshelf... knocking down a picture and a candelabra... he was lucky the plant didn't fall on his head causing grievous cranial harm...
Now that my heart has started beating again...