What Just Happened?

It’s Sunday night –the close of the weekend –and I’m stretched out on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, assessing the damage. Post 48 hours, here’s what we’re left with:

-a toppling mound of laundry heaped at the bottom of the cellar stairs
-a sink full of dishes
-two trash bags stuffed with crumpled wrapping paper
-a pile of sweat-stained riding equipment
-one dirty barn
-two filthy vehicles, both on empty
-one exhausted Thoroughbred
-one neglected, baleful-eyed border collie
-two zonked-out kids
-one chocolate-induced tummy ache

-and these memories: