So, this week I’m sleeping in. (Next week, we start gearing up for school.) I come downstairs after sleeping late and spending some time praying. The only person in the living room is the rabbit, who is running around on its own.  Ping-Ping’s on the porch talking to China (one of her friends is being adopted this week, everyone’s excited about it over there.)

As I look at the pictures from China the other mom sent, I become aware of an odd regular scream coming from downstairs. I don’t think much of this at first because, frankly, The Cherubim often screams in odd ways. But after a while, it occurs to me that maybe I should check on him, as he has not screamed a lot recently, and what if something were actually wrong?

Orville is wondering around in his pajama, so I address him first, in case he knows what is up.

"Orville, what is your brother doing? Is he playing on the computer?"

"Yeah. He keeps dropping Harry Potter off a cliff."

So it wasn’t The Cherubim screaming at all. It was Harry Potter, which was verified a moment later when peels of laughter floated up the stairs as The Cherubim laughed at the falling Harry Potter.

Meanwhile, the Elf King had appeared and was running around the living room like a living airplain chanting "Harry Potter Quittich. Harry Potter Quittich" over and over again.

And that, Folks, is what life is like here.