gee, mom, what should I do next?

My plan for putting up a photo every day is falling way short, don't you think? However, I still want to attempt to post more often, so you'll have to live with another kid story for now. (BTW, it's not that there's nothing beautiful here - it's just that the juxtaposition of seeing beauty and having my camera with me doesn't occur that often).

Those of you who have young children or have had young children will understand why the happenings of this afternoon have left me wondering when Rod Serling is going to amble up to me.

I had a fairly typical day at work - there were lots of surly noises and other assorted vocal expressions on my part related to my frustration at spending every freakin' last minute of my work week working on cleaning up other people's papers, letting wonderboy assert his dominance by swallowing my acid retorts and letting him be, and downing several cream puffs and chocolate covered strawberries at the retirement party thrown by another co-worker who has bowed out of civil service. So I drove home, knowing I had a full evening's worth of activities I needed to accomplish on my own since DH has a class on Tuesday nights until late.

(By the way, I swear I am not making ANY of this up. It was surreal).

I got home and both kids were already home from school. Q greeted me with the news that Roxy (my dog) had relieved herself (both types) on the playroom carpet. Great. I walked into the playroom to clean it up to find daughter E closing up the Nature's Miracle bottle. "I cleaned it up, mom!" she told me with a brilliant smile. And she had, complete with application of enzyme solution that eats up the nasty. OK. Q then informed me that both of them had FINISHED their homework (not merely started it, mind you, but completed it.) I began work on making homemade chicken noodle soup for dinner, with whole wheat noodles and freshly cooked kernels of corn from the cob. Q took one bite and told me it was wonderful, and would I please save some for him to have later in the evening after his baseball game. When I asked for help feeding Roxy, Q took charge with a smile and sweet talked our sweet chronically ill puppy dog as he filled her bowl with the super expensive dog food and a spoonful of pumpkin. E then told me her friend down the street, Delaney, was worried because she didn't have a large zip-lock-bag to put her salt-dough in for their 4th grade projects tomorrow. She asked me politely if she could ride her bike down the street and give Delaney one of ours. As I subtly peered around for Mr. Serling, Q THEN told me that he'd already checked and his baseball uniform was already clean, and well, it seemed it was time for him to change into it. When E returned from her trip to rescue her friend, she likewise hopped to put on her soccer clothes.

The drive to our assorted playing fields was peppered with them quizzing each other on fascinating math puzzles they'd had today. They were silly and reserved and intellectual and funny. Q's game was cancelled because of earlier rain, and he was accepting of his fate of having to sit for an hour to watch his sister practice soccer. He was even entertaining and funny.

We came home and they took baths and went to bed when I asked them to.

WTF?

I'm expecting to look in the mirror and see June Cleaver.