My semi-perfect day . . .

Began at 7:45, when a tiny little monster crawled into our bed. Usually, he gets right in my face and demands that I wake up. Today, however, he nestled in next to Judybat, which meant that when he was ready to get up, she was the one who had to go with him. Heh, heh. (What I meant to say: "Thanks, dear!")

Once I did emerge, TheBoy and I gave his other mother a break and went out for breakfast. It's always a risk taking him out in public these days, because our liege tends to lose it when he doesn't get his way. But this morning, he was delightful. Chatty, hungry and well-behaved, even when our server forgot his milk. (Fodder for a future post: Portland: The city of outstanding food and universally horrid service.)

Things got even better post-breakfast, when Judybat took TheBoy out of the house, and I got to stay home, read the paper and, at the same time, watch football. Yes, I multitasked like an expert. When they got home, I read TheBoy the requisite three stories, put him down for a nap and then went . . . back upstairs to read more of the paper and watch more football. (The Colts deserved to lose. Their defense choked. Again and again.)

When the kid got up from his nap -- early, which means we get to put him down to bed early -- he toddled up to the TV room and curled up on my chest to watch the end of the game. (Go Panthers. Now that I'm out of North Carolina, I'm suddenly a fan.) That's pretty much how Judybat found us when she returned from another errand, at which point we walked the nine blocks to the neighborhood Mexican place.

If I can watch a little "Firefly" tonight and manage to convince JB to hit the sack by 10, I will have damned near achieved perfection. Because, as you can tell, it doesn't take much.