Last night we built the fire and turned down the lights (apparently the flash on my camera works very well). The kids were sitting at our feet in front of the fire. It was warm and toasty. The adults were enjoying the moment.
Bart and Anna played with puppets.
Anna and Rand sang “Little Bunny Foo Foo.”
The children knitted and weaved. Doesn’t it sound so 1920s?
But then I threatened to kiss Ben and the REAL Fletcher household erupted back into normalcy. Yarn was thrown, shoes were thrown, kids screamed, parents scolded. And we all felt strangely calmed by the chaos which had interrupted the eerie serene scene we had previously experienced.
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