Dear Kid,

Somewhere in the fuzzy recesses of my mind, it seems that weekends were created as a break from the workweek, a time to gather with family, take pleasant day trips, and leisurely read the Sunday comics.

Somewhere that Norman Rockwell picture took a left turn and our lives seem almost more crazy during the weekend than they do during the week. (Oh, thank heavens, it’s Monday morning!)

While we don’t have any in-person sporting events this weekend (World Cup Soccer and Stanley Cup Finals are quite sufficient), we are going to be running around the city, stimulating the economy with last minute purchases before Pi goes on her trip next week. That’s in addition to her crazy full social schedule. And somehow (but I don’t know how) I’m hoping that we can find some time to clean up this place because it is just ridiculous. (As you know, I am not a neat freak, so when I think the house has gotten out of hand it’s generally pretty close to time to call in the haz-mat team.)

Booker plans to nap until he’s told to put away his toys. He also plans to watch as we work. He will not be whistling (extra points if you get the reference).

Love, Mom