Bah.

Okay, I'm bitter. I'll admit it. Under the guise of ensuring that we have a constant supply of laundry cleaners and boosters and protectors and whiteners, I made a late-night run to SuperTarget last week.

My real mission? To buy half-price Halloween candy. (Did I mention that we only hit six houses? This yielded more than enough loot for the boy, with an occasional morsel tossed to the siblings; not nearly enough for the chocaholic mother.)

Imagine my disappointment: where there had been orange and black was now a field of red and green. And the vast majority of the goods and sundries was picked over, as if holiday vultures had swarmed the store and had their way with the place.

A quick glance of the paper (is there any other kind these days?) informs me that Santa’s either at our nearest mall or on his way. I'm so proud of the Arboretum: they're waiting until a few hours after Thanksgiving before subjecting the reindeer to the 80-degree temps.

Meanwhile, storefronts are apparently sprouting beribboned garlands and lights while we sleep. And I saw a shocking number of illuminated Christmas trees peeking past curtains while driving through the neighborhood last night.

So, humbug. (Mmm... humbugs!)

Yes, it's a grumpy Monday. After an activity-filled weekend, we were gathered 'round the dinner table last night when Carter sneezed. Then again. And again. I could see his sweet face cloud over as he said, "Bobby, I cad't sbell."

Much croupy coughing during the night. Much improved by sunrise, but by then we were all sleep-deprived, so I cleared our morning schedule and proclaimed it an early Jammie Day.

It was the right thing to do, but they were terrors today. Invigorated by the weekend, they ran rampant around the house and gleefully made a show of turning off their Listening Ears.

Spencer was feeling musical, so his preferred diversion was to turn on the CD player, wait a nanosecond until the carousel opened and began to spin, then DRUM with both hands. Run squealing when nabbed, then repeat as able.

Katie wanted to spend the day catching up on correspondence, so she discovered my secret stash of stationery and carefully papered the floor with brown and red tiles of cards and envelopes.

Carter craved creative expression, so I gave him markers and paper so he could doodle to his heart's content while I surveyed the damage wrought by his siblings. All was well until he needed a potty break. At some point, I realized that he'd been in the bathroom for a while. And was one of the markers missing?

Indeed, when he emerged a minute later, it was with a proud expression and a blue nose, chin and jaw. Toddling behind him was Spencer, similarly marked.

For the record, I didn't make a show of calling Santa to inform him that coal and switches would be perfectly appropriate stocking stuffers. But anything can happen in forty-one days...