I would like to take this opportunity to lovingly thank my children:
For the rotten apple cores and wads of gum I find buried deep in the couch.
For the candle wax that is now a permanent part of our new carpet.
For lassoing our ceiling fan with a barrette and a string and causing it to come to a sputtering, sparking halt.
For the many food splatters on our dining room wall.
For the unidentifiable splatters elsewhere in the house.
For losing the remote control 83 billion times.
For eating all of the Cinnamon Toast Crunch in one sitting.
For using an entire bottle of shampoo in one shower.
For the writing on the walls. . . and cabinets. . .and stairs.
For scratching your name in the paint in the wall by your bed.
For practicing your cursive on the desks in the school room - with no paper.
For stealing my gum, my socks, and my hair clips.
For letting the upstairs sink overflow until the water streamed down the basement walls.
For pouring liquid soap into the electrical outlet.
For the chewed up pieces of our Life game and for the wrinkled Monopoly money.
For cutting a hole in our shower curtain with a pair of scissors.
For gobs of toothpaste that end up all over the bathroom, including the floor of the shower.
If I didn't have all these little messes to look forward to every day, it would only mean one thing: I wouldn't have you.