Oh, what a beautiful morning!

The soccer team won against York College Friday and competed in the Conference Championship game yesterday.

Then they lost.

Honestly, I'm glad! Because if we had won the conference tournament we would be road tripping to Helena, Montana in four days.

I'm really sick of the car. My thighs have formed to the shape of the seat.

So last night we left Omaha, Nebraska at 8:30 pm.

For you math wizards out there, that meant we arrived home a little after 4 a.m. Except today is Daylight Savings, so it seems like it wasn't quite that late because we "fell behind" and it's not so bad to say you went to bed at 3:30 am. Saying 4:30 am really gives you a better idea of what it's all about.

When I unpacked my toothbrush I discovered it had been have conjugal relations with my hair brush during the journey and was in the process of reproducing hair ball babies.

I pulled most of the hairs out and then left one that was particularly well-entrenched, thinking with fuzzy thoughts and bleary eyes that it really wouldn't make that much difference.

That's when I flossed with my own hair by accident. I won't be making that mistake again.

The next three hours were blissfully uneventful as I slept the sleep of death!

Then Mia and Maggie woke up. We bribed them with the Disney channel carte blanche and passed out again for 35 minutes.

But at that point Mikayla, our one-toothed wonder, for the first time in her unbelievably charmed life, started hacking up a lung and produced projectile vomit that consisted of approximately 1/2 gallon of semi-digested milk, coating my person, pillow, and bed with delicious goodness.

All you anti-co-sleepers out there, stop saying, "I told you so!"

My husband, alerted by my startled gasp and shriek of despair, shot awake and came to the rescue with clean up items and turned the light on.

This alerted Mia and Maggie that the day had officially started.

They serenaded us as I changed Mikayla and the sheets of the bed.

This is what I heard:

Mia, in a sweet tune kind of like "Oh Shenandoah":

I love my God

I love my Jesus

I love the Bible

I don't like to litter

Because that is rude

So I check the Bible and do what it says

And that's all, I'm not rude.

Then, in a masterful change of pace she performed a tune from a musical like "Wicked":

I have a scary song (fully theatrical and with hands curled into claws, creepy whispery voice):

A for apple

Witches and air!

A for apple

Ghosts in the air!

Not to be outdone, Maggie announced that now she was the teacher and it was time for Mia to listen up. Maggie clapped her hands twice and Mia subsided.

Sporting a pair of my high heels, Maggie sang in a passable opera voice:

Oh, what a beautiful morning,

Oh, what a beautiful day!

I've got a beautiful feeling -

Everything's going my way!

*************

And with a start like this, how can I say anything but simply....

Good Morning, friends! Happy fall!

(Two more things: 1. I looked up photos of flossing to go along with this post and am now officially grossed out beyond all belief. I may vomit. No photos for you! 2. The women's soccer season is not over yet. Though they didn't advance in the NAIA to Montana, they will compete in the NCCAA regional championship in two weeks. If they win that they'll go to NCCAA nationals in Florida. That's another long road trip, but it's way better to go to Florida in November than Montana. In my opinion.)