Nothing much has been happening because I'm not taking the kids to the store anymore.  It's so much more peaceful.  Who knew?

So, anyway, FM#2, always angling for a treat, asked to go to Chick-Fil-A tonight.  Then he forgot he asked and asked to change into his pajamas.  I think the child is going to have to get a job where he works at home because he just about lives in his pajamas.  Otoh, he wants to be President of the United States ever since he saw the HGTV White House Christmas show.  But I guess, if you are leader of the free world, you can go to work in your pajamas if you wish.  But, I digress. I told him he couldn't get into his pajamas yet.  He responded, "Oh, right, we're going to Chick-Fil-A."  I told him I hadn't said that.  He took that to be a no and walked off into the breakfast room where his siblings were coloring and announced, "I have some grave news . . ."  I wouldn't necessarily call that grave news but then I'm not a 7 year old boy.