We're an exhausted little band of people--those of us who've had our grown children and their children visiting for the holiday. I don't mean just for Thanksgiving dinner. I mean for an overnight or two. One friend emails: "We had all the kids here from Wednesday afternoon to Friday night. As I type it doesn't sound like much, but how come I spent Saturday and Sunday barely getting out of bed? There was never a minute when either the dishwasher, washing machine or dryer wasn't whirring. All house rules [rules her grown kids impose in their households] were not in effect--kinda like alternate side of the street parking. So candy, juice boxes and doughnuts were the food pyramid."
Chez moi, I had my kids and their kids in the house from Thursday morning through Saturday evening. I, too, could barely function on Sunday. Oh the bliss of sleeping late on Sunday without a chorus of "shhhh's" emanating from the kitchen where the wee ones were tucking into their cornflakes.