Happy Back to School Week! Haha. Just kidding. There are 6000 more weeks of summer vacation.

Something smells. Seriously, in my house, something smells. I get little wafts of it every so often and then it dissipates so quickly I can’t find it. It’s not quite as bad as my dog’s odor, which usually smells like he ate something so terrible that he emits gas from the center of Hell. But it doesn’t smell like rotting food. It kind of smells like a melting crayon covered in mold that’s been jammed in the heating vents — which makes no sense because right now we’re running AC. My husband was kind enough to suggest we might have a dead animal somewhere in the house so I may have to set the place on fire.

The kids asked for a day off from camp, and I agreed on the condition that the only television we watch would be shows I want to see. We watched Iron Chef and the ingredient was Wahoo. The kids were completely and hilariously repulsed by the whole thing. They learned a valuable lesson: never ask to stay home again.

That evening, the boys put out cheese and crackers as appetizers. Nicely plated, too. Not sure if they were inspired by Alton Brown or just trying to get at some pre-dinner noshing in a very clever way. Either way, it worked. The only problem is all the children loaded up on Triscuits, Laughing Cows, and a questionable plop of hummus, so the nice dinner I made became the slightly less nice lunch the next day.

I asked my daughter, “Do you want to help me make brownies tomorrow?” She looked at me, eyes wide.

“It is my duty,” she said.

Every so often, I feel I’m doing something right.

Figured out what the smell was. It’s the kids’ paint, made by a popular crayon company. I wasn’t completely off when I said it was a combination of dead animal and crayons. But all art projects made with that paint were photographed then tossed.

There is probably some analogy about creation/death (smells) but I’m too woozy to figure it out.

The boys finished their “regular” camp and began a week of coding classes. My husband came home from dropping them off and reported that the boys did not want to have their dad walk them into class.

While the boys were at class, I took my daughter to the local children’s museum for the first time. I’ve been avoiding it because I remember taking the boys there and being exhausted, but then I realized (a) she’s starting kindergarten in a few weeks and we won’t have the same amount of time together and (b) she’s not twins. We spent hours playing and exploring, despite the fact that she’s probably a little too old for the place. Fortunately, she’s not too old to hold my hand while we wander around.

These are the moments that grab a small awl and bore time-passing holes in my heart. And I realized I actually enjoy having my kids home for the summer.  It’s going to be hard for me in September when they go back. Now, feel free to repeat that back to me in a week when I am saying I’m going nuts from all the bickering and the fighting and the permanent state of snacking they all seem to be in. But for now, I am enjoying them very much.