Summer vacation. That time of year that your children are permitted to live due only to their adorable faces and their genetic relationship to you. Otherwise, the constant sibling battles, interruption of your work calls, and general destruction of your home would mean a one-way trip to the child farm, a la Oliver Twist.

Then, one afternoon you enter your bedroom and see the message “I Love U” written in Legos on your nightstand, along with a handwritten note:

“I am lucky to have such a wonderful mom. Daniel”

and you tell this lovely, thoughtful child that he has earned the right to live in your house and avoid the child farm. For at least one more day.

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