Rest Easy

I walked into the kitchen last night and found this:

And I starred at her, with her pencil still in her hand and her paper nearby, and wondered how writing could possibly be so exhausting. Who knew that the counter top was a comfy place to rest?

And I was reminded of another time I found her, 5 or so years ago. When I went into her room to wake her for school:

I really can't puzzle this one out. Let's collectively wonder about this, shall we?

On a lighter note, I risked asking the 2 oldest what they want for Christmas. This is a question I rarely ever ask. It's just not wise. Here's what I got:

Child #2: Fake nails.

Child #1: A Camaro.

I may just take a rest on the counter today, myself.