This summer Tuesdays have become my favorite day of the week.

On Tuesdays there are no piano lessons, tennis matches, or cub scout meetings.  We don’t visit the orthodontist.  We steer clear of the grocery store.  And there are rarely any play-dates planned.

What do we do on Tuesdays?

We stay home and we sleep in.  We keep in our pajamas until ten-thirty.  We eat sausage links and eggs for breakfast, instead of cold cereal.  The kids read books or play video games before they do their chores.  I resist putting on a bra until noon.

Occasionally, one of my children will ask, “What are we doing today?”  When they hear the word ‘nothing’ they smile and snuggle their way deeper into the couch, making themselves cozy and content.

Eventually they become bore with lounging and because we are in no rush to go somewhere, the offspring are forced to come up with their own ideas of fun.  They have to entertain themselves.

Board games come out and get assigned new rules.  Sorry and Sequence and Connect Four combine to become a mega, super-sized game of fun that lasts an hour and covers my entire bedroom floor.  Because it’s Tuesday, I don’t nag about the mess.

Stuffed animals are lined up to visit the vet who wears a plaid bathrobe and a Fisher-price stethoscope.  Despite her claims of higher education, I have my doubts to her prescription of cookies before lunch as a cure to what has been plaguing the colicky Build-a-Bears.

Lalaloopsy dolls mingle with My Little Ponies and Barbies on my living room couch in communal living, where they are built the condo of the future complete with Lego teleportation pads and jacuzzis.

By the end of the day there are piles and puddles of toys everywhere.  Evidence that we had the time and freedom to create a huge mess.  I put down the book I finished while curled up on the chair where I was left to my own devices for what feels like an obscene amount of time for a stay-at-home mom.

It is time to clean up, time to put away, time to get back onto a schedule.

The kids groan and everyone moves sluggishly, the genius that has been burning all afternoon is apparently used up.  The kids snap at one another as they reluctantly get the house back into order.  I am coming down from a reading high and respond sharply back.  But eventually everything is almost as it should be.

Dad comes home and at dinner he asks what we did today.  Someone invariably replies “Nothing,” while someone else enthusiastically answers with “Everything!”

Both answers are right.  That’s the beauty of Tuesdays.

(Just Write.)