Oiy

Children
Son, daughter
Hugging, laughing, twinkling
Wait for it. There.

Mêlée

Last night, I was reading a Junie B. book to my kids, in which the feisty first grader learns how to compose a cinquain (a poem that starts with one title word, followed by two that describe the title, then three related action words, then four words expressing a thought or feeling about the title, and lastly one word that means the same as the title). As I read, my five-year-old son and 10-year-old daughter were giggling and affectionate with each other--but less than 10 minutes later they were like two wet cats locked in a laundry room during a thunderstorm. So, I composed my own cinquain. It's not perfect, but you know, it was rather therapeutic. Heh.

(Image: mine)