It happened quickly, my attachment to those lazy, unscheduled, holiday days. I didn't mind the crumpled laundry that mysteriously doubled in size every time I turned around or the kitchen that got covered in flour and breadcrumbs two seconds after I'd cleaned it (for the third time that day). But the Christmas decorations have all been put away now and the boxes have been stored and the porch has been swept and it's back to waking sleeping children in the still-dark morning and making lunches and finding P.E. uniforms and stuffing backpacks. And that's okay, too. It's just that those sleepy, dreamy days are what I love best. I think they're what we all love best.