After camp yesterday, the boys came home and were immediately, completely entranced with their toys, in separate rooms. It was a beautiful and sunny afternoon, the sort we have not seen around these parts very much lately, and I should have taken them to the park with their scooters, but they were too blissfully content to interrupt them. It also meant I had found time to do all my mom paperwork: school health care forms, playdate arrangements, blackout shade measurements, what have you. As soon as I was ankle-deep in my piles, though, a little head appeared in the doorway:

FERGUS: Mommy, I fink I feel wike doing arts n cwafts.

MOMMY: OK, Ferg. How about we get out your big coloring book and you color on the floor here while Mommy pays these bills?

FERGUS: Hmm. I said “arts,” but when I said dat, I was weawy finking “cwafts.”

OK, I was game.

MOMMY: What’s the difference?

FERGUS: Well. Arts? Is, wike, painting, or markewing, or cowowing and stuff. And Cwafts? Is somfing dat takes a weawy wong time, and your pawents do it wif you.

So we, together, created this 3D foam monkey tree out of a stash of Michael’s stuff I keep on hand for rainy afternoons. Even though it was sunny out. No matter what the weather, Fergus reminded me of the best way I could have spent such a lovely afternoon.