When I was little, we played a game we called “in and out” after dinner. It was my sister and I’s invention. We had a galley kitchen that was parallel to the entryway of our house and we would take turns trying to run up either the entryway or the galley kitchen before we got caught by the other player who was waiting where both possible routes spilled the runner out into the dining room. It was fantastic.
After dinner is a golden time at our house (usually…/I would say like 60% of the time). Something about full tummies ends fights and tantrums. This is why I am horribly inconsistent at making my kids do the dishes. I would rather watch them play together and be happy than deal with whining and learning how to do a new chore.
So the other day after dinner I decided that no one would do the dishes while I sat on the couch and documented this ritual before it doesn’t happen anymore. I may or may not have had tears in my eyes while I watched them and explained to Justin how the game they were playing was so similar to In and Out and I had never even taught it to them. He was emotional too, I could feel it, he just didn’t want to show it :). We have a bucket of balls in our living room (doesn’t everyone?) so the game of choice is usually some form of dodge ball with lots of running and screaming.
We won’t talk about the moments before dinner. We refer to that as the witching hour.