It was a surprise attack.
The morning was yet dark and all I did was walk out our bedroom door. When suddenly! They popped out from seemingly nowhere. Three tousle-headed little boys all reaching for me at once. The shortest one grabbing my knees and another around my waist. The third managing to hug me from behind. Soon we were a tangled mess of arms and legs.
Of course, I shrieked. Who wouldn’t under such circumstances?
This was just the effect they appeared to be hoping for, this pajama-clad, up-to-no-good gang. But not willing to go down without a fight, I resorted to my own underhanded technique – tickling – while shouting out to my husband for help.
Whom I could see in the distance. Standing at the top of the stairs and not taking a single step toward my rescue. He simply stood there observing the mayhem. Smiling.
He had the strangest expression on his face. Looking as if I’d somehow done something great. Like I’d done something far greater than merely shuffle out the bedroom door that morning. From his vantage point, he could see a far bigger picture.
[Read the rest of the article at The Time-Warp Wife.]