I’ve been accused of having a warped sense of humor, but at least I keep myself entertained. Three things that have cracked me up today:

• Asbjørn sitting on the dining room table looking out the window, having discovered that doing so gives him an excellent view of the street in front of our house and all the various enemy dogs that walk by.
• Lydia saying to me, in the middle of a battle of wills over whether or not she would quit putting her feet on her little brother, “Don’t give me that smart-ass look!”
• Tage lying down and rolling over, on command, in order to earn a dog treat.

In not-so-funny news, Lydia is sick and it’s no fun for any of us. She complained of a stomach-ache this morning when I woke her up for school, but as she’s taken playing sick to whole new levels, I packed her off anyway. She called me about five minutes after she got there, saying, “Jag mår jätteilla,”* at least four times in less than a minute, so I told her to go ahead and come home (we live less than five minutes’ walk from the school). She did look a bit peaked when she got here, so I thought maybe she just needed a little rest, but a couple of hours later she started throwing up and it’s been a bit touch-and-go since then. She’s installed on the couch now with a cup of rose-hip soup and I’m keeping my fingers crossed that it stays down.

I expect that she won’t go to school tomorrow, which should make for a fun day for her dad since I have a birthday party to attend, and I have absolutely no intention of missing it. The mere thought of vomit makes him want to lose his lunch. With any luck she’ll be over the worst of it by then and the rest of us will get away unscathed.

*I feel very sick.