It's 9:23 on Saturday morning.

It's Saturday morning. Cartoon time. Not the cartoon time I had as a kid - only on Saturday mornings - now we have multiple channels of 24/7 cartoons. But it's special that we don't have to jump up and start the day. The kids and I are sitting around in our jammies in the family room: the boy and I are snuggled under a blanket, the Toddler's taking up every square inch of the love seat, my oldest is laying on the floor.

They're watching cartoons and I'm surfing on my laptop trying my best to ignore the TV.

The neighbor boy knocks on the patio door.

I get up and tell him we're not ready to play. After all, we're still in our jammies.

This is the best time of the week. No pressure. Just hanging out.

I no more than sit down and my two oldest hop up and scramble upstairs. As she bolts downstairs and rushes out the door, I ask my oldest, "Where are you going?" She tells me outside. She was perfectly content a few minutes ago, no she is looking for something better. My boy is getting dressed - and runs downstairs and outside.

The siren song of the neighbors.

It's 9:28, and I'm left with a hungry toddler, who will leave me for the great outdoors as soon as she's fed...

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