This morning my four-year-old woke up, strutted into the living room stark naked and declared “Good morning my little lovely!” Now that’s what I call an entrance.

Saturday Morning

Outside the mourning doves are cooing. Inside the house, my daughter is declaring the toast to be too toasty (and her highness is requesting less-toasty toast please!). There is a low whine in the background — the sound of a broken toilet that won’t stop running and that my mediocre plumbing skills are not capable…