Because, you know, who expects to see

a dead mouse

in a frisbee

on the welcome mat?

Cat poop in the bird feeder. Actually IN it. Or I suppose it is more accurate to say ON it; it’s a deck-mounted platform feeder.

We don’t even have a cat.

I’m told it’s the neighbor’s cat and he’s very friendly.

Yeah, I’ll just bet the cardinals think so.

Or so says my husband, that renowned fashionista. Yet another of our fabulous neighbors was dropping off dinner yesterday, and of course she had to stop awhile to coo over the bairn.

“Oh, she makes me want another one!” said this mother of four.

“Yeah, you can join the Five Club!” I told her. My family is one of only two in the neighborhood to have five children. The other family moved here about six months ago, and between the two of us (or ten of us, to be precise), we’ve managed to completely destroy the neat symmetry of the neighborhood phone directory, which has column space for a maximum of four children per family.

Fabulous Mother of Four laughed and said, “I don’t know…”

“Go for it,” said Scott. “After all, five is the new black.”

Who knew I was so chic?

My husband’s account of Beanie’s bike adventures. No way I could top this myself.

The prudent mother does not stop to kiss her baby’s toes in the middle of a diaper change.

Rose: “Mom, how do you spell Latin?”

Jane, looking up from Sunflower Houses: “Mom, look at this! It’s a bunch of riddles about flowers…hmm, ‘The name of a boy and an old-fashioned weapon…’ “

Beanie: “Did you know O has a brother?”

Rose: “How do you spell Japanese?”

Beanie: “The brother of O is Q!”

Jane: ” ‘A state in the South and a one-year-old child…’ Virginia creeper!”

Rose: “How do you spell Gaelic?”

Wonderboy: “Mommy help!” (points at stacking cup under table)

Rose: “How do you spell Chinese?”

Jane: “Do you say PEEanee or peOHnee?”

Beanie: “Peony peony peony! I like that name.”

Rose: “How do you spell German?”

Wonderboy: “Mommy help!” (different cup, now under couch)

Baby: “Meep.”

Jane: ” ‘The child of a suffragette known in our land…’ I know about the suffragettes but I don’t know their children’s names.”

Beanie: (sings) “Oh we were sufferin’…until suff-er-age…not a woman here could vote no matter what age…”

Rose: “How do you spell Irish?”

Beanie: “Until the nineteenth a-somethin’ struck down that ra-structive rule….oh yeah!”

Jane: “Amendment.”

Wonderboy: “Mommy count!” (All stacking cups are now lined up in a row.)

Jane: ” ‘A pleasant expression, and one sharp-edged tool…’ The only thing left is smilax, which fits, but what is it?”

Wonderboy: “Ee! Oh! Eye!” (This is how one counts sans consonants.)

Beanie: “Peony. Penny. Penny Knocknutter. When I have a child I’m going to name her Penny Knocknutter.”

Baby: (noisily fills diaper)

Rose: “How do you spell…oh, no, wait, I know that one. G—R—E—E—K.”

Wonderboy: “Boom!”

(Intersperse responses from slightly dizzy mother as appropriate.)

Jane comes home from nature studies camp, soot-streaked and beaming.

Me: “Did you have a good time?”

Jane, jubilantly: “We made FIRES!”

I guess that would be a yes.