Thursday morning I'm sitting in the recliner sifting through papers, Halle's on the couch doing math, Caden, Tristen and Bryson scattered on the living room floor doing homework. Everyone is fairly quiet, I have to tell Bryson to quit singing and Caden to quit staring at the ceiling about every 30 seconds, but all in all a productive morning.
Morgan walks in, barely awake, his wild curls sticking out in every which way. He's standing in the middle of the room, sort of in a daze and begins to pick his nose. Tritter vocalizes his disgust. Morgan looks at him, then dashes toward him, booger on finger like he's going to wipe it on him. Tristen screams defensively while the other three laugh, then Morgan lunges at Halle, Bryson and Caden, pointer finger outstretched, getting close enough that each child screams in protest while the other three siblings who don't have a booger in their face laugh. Then he goes around once more to each kid. And I think he lunged toward Tristen an extra time for good measure, all the while enjoying being the center of attention. Then he stands still, back in the middle of the room, all eyes on him and he opens his mouth as wide as he possibly can and inserts finger in mouth like he's going to eat the booger. By now the other four children are laughing absolutely hysterically. Then, just like that, Morgan pulls his finger out of his mouth (booger still intact) and runs to the bathroom. He returns a few minutes later and shows me the booger is gone and tells me he washed his hands, and as with every time he washes his hands he says, "Smell 'em Mama."
Although quite disgusting, and not an "oh so proud" mothering moment, it was quite humorous to watch. And the sound of my kids laughing does have a sort of musical ring to my ears.
