So, here is the set-up. It's Sunday night and Abbie is in her jammies with her teeth brushed coming downstairs to say one final "goodnight." She asks if she can stay up late with me like she did last night because, "that was fun." Our fun activities last night? We mopped the kitchen floor, vacuumed the upstairs, and then shredded a pile of old bills. This is either a sappy lesson in how just spending time together is the important thing. Or else it's an indictment of how under stimulated poor Abbie is that cleaning and shredding qualify as "fun."
I'll opt for the sappy lesson.
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