We had a serious game of cops and robbers going on here while I was making dinner last night. Jonathan demanded that I call him "sheriff" throughout most of the evening. His prisoner (some of you might know him as Winn) was banished to the staircase, as the banister is the closest thing we have in this house to jailhouse bars. I, the jail's mess hall cook, found the game to be particularly handy when I learned that the sheriff was more than willing to force his prisoner to accomplish several tasks for me while the soup and grilled sandwiches were on the stovetop, such as taking out the garbage and carrying laundry downstairs. I wish I would have snapped a photo of Winn headed down the stairs, arms laden with laundry, a toy pop-gun pressed to his back by a skinny but handsome lil' sheriff.
Tonight a pancake supper is on the menu, just as soon as the boys get back inside from their snowblowing and shoveling. I think I'll surprise them with some steaming hot cocoa and marshmallows too.