Ask a silly question...

Mostly, we dabble in crowd control and mayhem management around here. My children are children, and as such, they specialize in all things loud, fast, messy and potentially dangerous. They are boisterous, playful, and they live a full-throttle life. They also refuse to give each other the space that is often required for kids to calm down, and prefer to play together from sun up to sun down, in order to fully maximize their potential for annoying one another. Such is life with three kids ages 4 and under. It doesn't bother me, really. I've just learned to talk over them.

But every once in a while, they surprise me. It usually happens on the tail end of a lecture offered in a frightening whisper instead of a yell. Dropping my volume to nearly nothing when their own decibel level has nearly reached Jet Engine seems to have the effect of making them think that mom has completely lost it, and they better shape up else I stop preparing food for them and leave them to repair their own fallen down block towers.

The three will hold some sort of brief, whispered meeting amongst themselves, usually overseen by the eldest. My middle child, ever the peacemaker, does his best to make sure his younger brother is in attendance while the three choose books from the shelf, then Abby and Caleb work together to show Jacob where they intend to sit quietly while Mommy gathers her wits.

Silence is golden, but is often indicative of trouble around here. So I'll peek my head around the corner and find them calmly reading to themselves. Unsure if these are the same children who were moments earlier doing their best to destroy my furniture and my sanity, I do a quick identity check to validate that these are, in fact, my kids.

They seem to respond well to their names, so I move on to my next question.

"What are you guys doing?" I ask, with some hesitation. Have I destroyed the moment? Should I be messing with such a good thing?

"We're just reading, Mommy," Abby responds.

"Quietly," adds Caleb.

"Meeee-ow!" shrieks Jacob, waving a cat book in the air.

I don't know why they do it, but I'm not asking any more questions.