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The smell of erasers was pervasive as I voted for class president. Head down, hand raised, determining the immediate future of our third grade classroom. You pressed the flag stick onto the victor's desks with clay.

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I wrote about Aidan's 9th birthday already. But this is worth sharing, too:

Like father, like son.

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Vacation is officially over. The kids are asleep and in the morning we will be traipsing down to the bus stop. It went fast, was full of laughs and the general stresses of being in a family whose members make a commitment to spend the holidays together.

Which is interesting because it's a curse wrapped up in a blessing.

Which wraps the pain in guilt.

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Enough: what's the last really delicious homemade meal you ate?