Scraps and Snippets of a Morning

I woke up late. Aleady chasing the day. But what to do except just the next thing. And get a move on already! The laundry. The dishes. The toys. The usual really, but today it's all yesterday's leftovers. When I got out of the shower, all was fairly quiet. I could hear Josh's breathy whistling downstairs - "When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again- Hurrah! Hurrah!" I entered the kitchen and found this:

Resident artists at work.
My original plans for the next hour just went out the window. I had planned to crack the whip and "git 'er done" with Bible reading and math. But there was whistling and there were smiles and isn't creating a good work? So I asked, "Whatchya guys doing?"
Sam showed me his creation and explained,  "This is the washer and this is the dryer and this is the rug in the laundry room."

Yes. Of course it is. "And this is the clock for my hand".

 Yep. I see that.  I direct my next question at Josh, "What are you working on?"
"Don't take a picture yet! I'm not done!"

I understand that, too. Sometimes we are so much alike.
I comment on the toys in the corner and Sam tells me, "All my friends were cold this morning."

"Look what I made, Dad! This is my magic wand and this is the laundry room and..."
And Josh whistles "Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, jingle all the way" and the P-36A Hawk is done and markers race across white paper.

So I capture a few moments in frames and strike keys on the laptop.
And the rest of the day stretches before us, waiting to be colored and cut out and taped into the scrapbook of this rockpile life.