With two little boys, you have to make chores fun. After all, they are ‘my’ chores, not theirs. Needless to say, if they aren’t with me doing chores, then they aren’t with me. They lose all hearing, no longer recognize their name and somehow end up on the wrong side of the pasture fence playing in ditch water that stinks. So, it’s in my best interest (and for their safety) that they ‘help with chores’. I generally have to settle for half dressed help, or no shoes help, or I’m making more of a mess than helping, help. With one of them currently potty training on his own time, I also have to settle for half naked help that may pee in my path with little to no notice. It pains my husband that the littlest doesn’t mind running over the manure mountain barefoot. You know what? I found out quickly it’s easier to clean bare feet than scrub poop out of the groove on the bottom of a shoe. Luckily for the husband, I still have my limits and I only allow this occasionally. Really, it’s glamorous in its own right. The freedom to get dirty. You couldn’t have told the younger Nordstrom loving me that this would be life…and that I’d be loving it!