The boys recently cornered me in the kitchen and explained to me very seriously that they have decided to start rating the quality of a day according to a system they created.
"There are criteria that are incredibly important," I was told by my eldest, the Rules Guy. The second-in-line, the Explainer, expounded, "The worst is Supreme Bad, then Just Bad, then Okay, then Just Good, then Supreme Good and finally, Awesome!"
At this point there was much nodding of little heads. I realized my maternal duty was to ask intelligent questions about their system.
Mom: "What inspired your system?"
The Explainer: "We wanted a way to compare days."
Mom: "What about adjectives?"
The Rules Guy: "Adjectives are not enough. We need standards."
Mom: "Fair enough. What constitutes a Just Bad day?"
The Explainer: "That would be a day with lots of sweaty chores."
Mom: "What is today on your scale?"
The Explainer: "Today is Okay. We only had a couple sweaty chores and our breakfast was good."
The Rules Guy: "Good breakfasts happen on Okay days. If it's something like oatmeal that might put us in Supreme Bad territory."
I saw more nodding from the jury.
Mom: "What makes a Supreme Good or Awesome day?"
And in stepped son number three, or as I like to call him, The Operator.
The Operator: "You know, Mom, you could take today, which is so far Okay and make it Supreme Good or possibly Awesome by making us peanut butter cookies and ice cream. I like Supreme Good days, Mom."
That is when I knew I was stuck. It was five million degrees outside and I was going to fire up the oven to bake cookies because I was incapable of coming up with a diplomatic way of telling my kids I didn't want them to have a "Supreme Good or possibly Awesome day." The Operator had better grow up to be a multi-million dollar sales representative or prosecuting attorney.