A Favorite Thing

I’m sitting here because I can’t bear to watch my children slowly clean the living room. I did not wreck it, so I am not going to clean it. But as they wander around vaguely picking up little toy knights, socks, paper dolls, crayons and tea towels, every fiber in my being longs to cry out to Hurry Up and then rush in and do it myself. So I’ve come down here to get out of their way. I know, from experience, that they will do an excellent job, and it won’t even take them that long, but I can’t bear to watch.
Instead, I’m watching this.