Eggs in a nest, hashbrowns with zucchini, tomatoes with pecan breadcrumbs.
If a visitor had shown up at my house at 4:00, when I got home from work, he would have thought: What a lovely little family! The children were playing nicely and quietly; the baby was content and cheerful. (I love our nanny, Deanna, so much that mere words fail.) Josh had a snack and promptly got himself ready for soccer practice.
If a visitor had arrived at 5:30, he might have been a little concerned about us. I was trying to get dinner going and keep Alex entertained and keep Eli from either setting himself on fire with the hot stove or dismantling the laundry room. Josh was at soccer practice, but as it was beginning to thunder and the sky was threatening, I kept rushing to the window and wondering whether to abort dinner and throw the other two in the car and just go get him, for God's sake, whether or not he'd be embarrassed in front of the other guys.
If a visitor had come to visit at 6:45, he would have thought he'd mistakenly walked in on a performance of Lord of the Flies at the local psychiatric hospital. To spare certain people mortification--and I'm not saying who, specifically, but it is the two people who live at this house who can read and yet cannot drive--I will not share details. It is enough to say there was much melodrama, and it was the loud kind that resulted in certain people going to bed without stories.
Somewhere in there, I managed to serve a nice little dinner. Alongside, I must mention, some good strong bloody marys, prepared by my mom.