Last Saturday, I went for a run, but on my way back, ended up slipping on some ice and bruising my hip. I hobbled home to find my kids snuggled in front of Backyardigans, Lala making salsa, and my husband making breakfast.
Me: Didn't you guys wonder why it took me an hour to run three miles?
Joe: Well, I started to wonder. But, Mom kept saying not to worry, you were tough. What happened? Did you fall in a ditch or something? (joking)
Me: Well, yeah...sort of.
I explained my misadventure, lamenting my bruised hip and my ripped pants.
Me: Now I'll have to add some running pants to my Christmas list.
Joe: Maybe you could mend them.
Me: Joe. They're stretchy. That's really tough to sew. (I say it like I'm an expert seamstress even though I barely survived basic 4-H sewing).
Lala, who has been uncharacteristically silent this whole time, looks up from chopping vegetables.
Lala: I can mend that for you.
Lala: I can pretty much do anything, you know.
She's nothing if not modest.