What was it about afternoons that they lasted an entire week?

The day was over and the afternoon began with a bang. Literally.

Deena gripped the stirring wheel as Miri shrieked, “She broke my head!”

Deena inhaled. A three-year-old banging a water bottle wouldn’t break any heads, but if this was how the afternoon was going to look, soon her own head would split in two.

Count to ten. Thank You, Hashem. Sing the positivity song.

STOP SCREAMING!

“Okay,” Deena said loudly, gripping the steering wheel. “Mommy’s going to give a cookie to whoever sits nicely until we get home.”

Miri switched from screaming to scowling. Nechama banged her bottle on Miri’s head again.

Stay calm.

By the time they walked through the door, everyone, including Deena, was screaming. They got cookies anyway. As many as they wanted.

They calmed down. They played.

They ate more cookies.

They fought. They cried.

And it wasn’t even three o’clock.

What was it about afternoons that they lasted an entire week?

Deena knew what she had to do. Drawing a deep breath, she plastered a smile on her face. “Who wants to bake with Mommy?”

Miri looked up sharply. “Do we have to look at the camera the whole time?”

Deena swallowed. “No. No, Mir, we’re just going to bake today, okay?”

“What are we going to bake?”

Her voice was full of mistrust. Deena thought quickly. They could do zucchini muffins. She had a bag of zucchini in the fridge, and she’d been thinking of trying to make a healthy muffin with blueberries, that would add personality. Maybe she should story it, a different day, when the kids felt more up to it. She’d write down the steps and—

“Could we bake chocolate chip cookies?”

“Cookies? You just ate cookies!”

“So?!”