Plunder

Emma finished eating her lunch and I cleaned her off. She started to walk away, stopped and turned and asked me, "Can I go forth and plunder?"

John doesn't ask. The fact that he doesn't talk is no excuse for poor manners. This morning while I was blow drying my hair and basking in glory of my kids playing quietly together so happily, John got a hold of a new box of tissues. He pulled out and shredded then entire box. I should learn never to bask. Basking is the source of all plunder.