it’s a numbers game.

Otto can count to about twenty before he loses all sense of reality.

After that his numbers sound hilariously complicated.

“I love you more than forty two million two twelve eighteen six ninety pancakes.”

(That’s a lot of love, folks.)

I’m going to borrow his math skills for the night.

Today my name (if you know me as “Momma” or “Mommy” or “Mom”) was said six thousand fourteen two nine twenty nineteen times.

At least.

I believe I was touched by small hands, oh so many small hands, about eighty seventeen four thirteen times.

The volume level in our home was about  sixteen nine thirty three eighty times too loud for most of the day.

The Duke Power guy came out to officially read the meter and he says it turns out the Power Man is accurate.

That means our bill is still about eleven seven sixty ninety two times more than we want to spend this month.

He was actually incredibly polite but I had to laugh a little when he asked, “How well is your house insulated?  How efficient is your heat pump? How about your hot water tank?”

When Bergen read our paper Christmas chain and it said “play games and drink hot cocoa” I had to force enthusiasm.

I didn’t do a really swell job.

And when the game suggestions were the likes of Risk, Monopoly and Life, I sighed a thousand thirty two one four times.

Kevin had an evening Google chat business appointment so our game had a blessed time limit and Otto Fox’s unruly dinnertime behavior earned him an early ticket to Sleepy Town.

Having recently rearranged all of our games and stored them in a more convenient location than the recesses of the underbelly of Fox’s bed, it was easy to unearth an old game to the world but a new game to our kids.

Outburst Junior.

 

It was actually the perfect choice.

Our non-reader Piper Finn could contribute as well as our pro-readers.  The big kids felt awesome because they could click off the correct answers and the topics were funny.

(If you’re looking for a Christmas game choice for your clan, this old classic might be a fun choice.)

Anyway, the kids drank hot cocoa and I made a tiny batch of extra thick sipping chocolate for myself and the evening game night turned out two ten forty nine hundred times better than I thought it would.

(I’ll be sad when Otto learns to count correctly.)