Kids get up at 6am-ish.
JEM gets up for work and feeds the animals (Maxman and Hops&Barley).
JEM tells me he has to leave for work and I roll out of bed.
H&B greets me with shoes in her hands and says we must go for a walk.
"Later," I say. "I must eat breakfast."
Before eating I decide the mound of dishes should be done.
While washing the dishes I notice H&B rooting around for a different pair of shoes. She sometimes changes her shoes five times in half an hour.
After rooting around, I hear H&B fall down ALL the basement stairs.
I run to the top of the stairs and she's lying at the bottom on her back crying, a runner clutched in each hand.
I tear to the bottom of the stairs and kiss her head asking if she's okay. I'm trying to decide whether I should move her. I'm trying not to cry.
H&B says, "I okay. I get up now." She takes her shoes and runs off.
I sit on the floor for a second marvelling at a) how tough she is, b)how lucky I am she's not hurt, c)that I still need to finish the dishes.
I go upstairs, pick up the cutlery I dropped on the floor in my mad dash for the stairs and finish the dishes.
That was before 7:30am.
Now we go to the beach. Have I mentioned that the beach is a half hour walk from our house - yippee!!!