My mother asked that I share a funny story this week. And, as you know, I always do what my mother says.

I have two boys. I think everyone who follows along here knows this by now. I think everyone also knows that they are not exactly quiet, reserved, timid little children. Lately, my job as mother primarily involves refereeing battles that start promptly at 4:04 p.m. (when the bus delivers my eldest at the end of the school day) and don’t end until bed time. Or later. And by “referee” I mean actually pulling children off one another when it starts to get ugly. I should wear a mouth guard and collect a stipend.

So what’s with the apples? I was trying to harness a little creativity during the epic snowstorms that have pummeled us since January. After a few days of snow-induced captivity, apples were the only colorful thing I could could find in the house. That and lots of tiny Legos that I accidentally found with my feet. Very comfortable.

As I’m lining up apples on my windowsill, I hear the fight begin to brew:

“No, Danny, noooooooo!”

Then, silence.
I decide to continue on with the apples.

“Danny!!!!! Stop it!!!!” *heavy thumping noises from above*

I’m still debating as to whether my referee skills are required, when I hear Lucas yell (at decibel 11):

“Danny! I do not belong in the hamper! I am not clothes, I am SOMEBODY!”

It was, at this point, that I was actually proud of my loud, brawling, scrappy 3 year-old. That’s right, Lucas, you ARE somebody. Nobody’s going to put YOU in a hamper. Unless it’s your big brother, who still managed to get one of your legs in the aforementioned hamper before I reached the bedroom and, once again, had to pull you children off of one another.

Great art is not created while your children are trying to shove one another in a dirty clothes receptacle. The apples, above, are not great art. We ate them later for snack (out of desperation because we were out of cookies and there was 97 feet of snow on the ground). I’m okay with sharing the not-great-art here. It happens. This week was about the story, about my boys who love one another with great devotion, and about always trying to be creative, even if people are shoving one another in hampers while you try to work.