When I didn't immediately hear fighting and/or crying coming from the bathroom (for some reason my kids almost always fight when they're in the bathroom at the same time), I kind of forgot they were in there and moved on from kitchen cleaning to laundry. Yes, my evenings are exciting.
A few minutes later the peaceful silence was shattered by the fingernails-on-a-chalk-board sound of a bathroom stool scraping across the bathroom floor tiles. I finished folding yet another beach towel and headed toward the bathroom, intending to scold the kids for once again making my eardrums bleed and potentially scuffing tile floor...but then I heard singing.
Though the toothbrushes hanging out of their mouths muffled their words, I could still recognize their choice of song - or war hymn, more accurately - and I quickly grabbed my camera so that I could capture their rendition. (Their singing was better before they knew I was filming, but there was no way to capture their "sway" without making myself visible.)
It's amazing to me how quickly they've bailed on our beloved Iowa Hawkeyes, ditched their native Michigan Wolverines, and fully embraced everything Aggieland.
I know it seems like my children never wear shirts. They don't, but only because none of their shirts fit. Don't worry though - they're going to take my friend Beth's suggestion and use the money they make selling lemonade this summer to buy shirts.
You know I'm kidding, right? They have plenty of shirts that fit. It's just super, duper hot in Texas and Will would rather "rock it in his shorts" than deal with a sweaty tee-shirt. And Hallie would rather "rock it in her shorts" than let Will have that privilege all to himself.