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My husband came home from work and found his daughter outside, still in her pajamas, playing in the mud, with empty food boxes and wrappers strewn all around the front yard.

The door of my truck was open, as was the back door to the house and there was no sign of the dogs.

Proceeding into the porch, he found an even bigger mess. A lamp had been knocked over, and the throw rug was wadded against one wall.

In the front room the TV was loudly blaring a cartoon channel, and the family room was strewn with toys and various items of clothing.

In the kitchen, dishes filled the sink, breakfast food was spilled on the counter, the fridge door was open wide, dog food was spilled on the floor, a broken glass lay under the table, and a small pile of sand was spread by the back door.

He quickly headed up the stairs, stepping over toys and more piles of clothes, looking for me. He was worried I might be ill, or that something serious had happened.

He was met with a small trickle of water as it made its way out the bathroom door. As he peered inside he found wet towels, scummy soap and more toys strewn over the floor. Miles of toilet paper lay in a heap and toothpaste had been smeared over the mirror and walls.

As he rushed to the bedroom, he found me still curled up in the bed in myr pajamas, reading a book.

I looked up at him, smiled, and asked how his day went. He looked at me bewildered and asked, "What happened here today?"
I again smiled and answered, "You know every day when you come home from work and you ask me what in the world did I do today?"

"Yes," was his incredulous replied.

I answered, "Well, today I didn't do it."