One lazy morning I put James down for his nap and went about tackling the daily stuff that needs doing (laundry, dishes, vacuuming, etc.).
Naturally, I did all this in my underwear, because clothes are forbidden on lazy mornings.
All the while, I listened to my first born hold a conversation with the "guy outside my window."
It went a little something like this:
"Don't fall, little guy. Do you want some of my pink milk? Are you getting wet? You need to get down from there right now."
I smiled to myself, grateful for my daughter's imagination and her ability to keep herself entertained.
And then she yelled, "Mommy! He's waving at me!"
I looked up (in my underwear, remember) to see this:
And then I curled up into a ball and died.