For the three big chunks that were stolen out of the side of the angel food cake I made for tomorrow's feast. They were pulled out by a three year old that couldn't wait one more second for a bite, who didn't realize that the cake had to be iced, and that it was for tomorrow.
For the GeoTrax layout taking up 1/3 of my living room, carefully planned by the five year old.
For the stool in the bathroom, which the other three year old drags up to the sink every day to sing some version of a beat box song that I'm blaming on Biz Markie. It goes something like "GO GO GO Pfffffffft".
For the feet that touch mine at night, for the leg thrown over my hip and the arm around my waist, that holds me close and keeps me protected in my dreams.
All the rest is gravy.