It seemed like we had a "Halloween Hangover" all weekend.
The four of us were dragging.
By Sunday afternoon, it was clear that I had a bad cold, the children had eaten too much sugar and K had taken ENOUGH.
After the obligatory use of a Disney film to absorb a bit of Sunday, the children begged to play cards.
K launched a three-way game of War.
"One, Two, Three... DRAW," he said.
The Mayor, The Rooster and K each flipped over a card.
[I watched from my horizontal parenting position on the couch.]
Every time The Rooster lost a hand, she snatched her card back, pressed it close to her chest and wiggled back and forth as if her whole body were saying,
The Mayor, in a great act of maturity, accepted her idiosyncratic play style and focused on the cards won and lost between himself and his father.
"Rooster isn't playing right," he shrugged.
"No she isn't" K said, sighing. "That's how your mother plays, too."
[Rooster's not the only one in this family who doesn't like losing.]