Evan: Mommy, are you ever certain there’s a ghair on your chair?
Me: (washing dishes without looking up) Sometimes.
Evan: Mommy, is there a ghair on your chair?
Me: (looking up to see Evan draped on the top of my wing-backed chair) Why, I do believe there is a ghair on my chair.
*an hour later*
The boys are watching TV, and I read my book.
Evan: Is there a ghair on your chair?
Me: (looking up, smiling) Yes, there is a ghair on the chair.
Evan: Is that a bofa on the sofa?
Me: (Realizing I’m the only one on the sofa) Yes, I’m the bofa on the sofa.
Evan: Do you ever get the feeling there’s a B.T. watching T.V?
Me: (Looking at Sean, standing, mesmerized by Kai-Lan) Yes, I do have the feeling there’s a B.T. watching TV.
*a few days later and several more ghairs on the chairs*
Evan: Mommy. There’s a sick ghair on your chair.
Me: I know, big guy, and he’ll be well soon.
“I don’t care
If you believe it.
That’s the kind of house
I live in.
And I hope
We never leave it.”