The house had not settled into anything resembling calm in eleven days, and Arianne had stopped waiting for it to. Two children under three and two who were technically old enough to know better meant mornings ran on their own schedule regardless of what anyone had planned, and today's had already produced one spilled bowl of cereal, one missing shoe, and Lexx standing in the hallway in his pajama shirt and nothing else — already outraged about something no one had explained to him yet.
Lily found the shoe under the couch without being asked, and Leo abandoned his own breakfast half eaten to go check on Louis, who'd started up the thin, insistent cry that meant he was hungry rather than wet. Arianne had learned to tell the difference in the last week and a half. So, apparently, had a seven-year-old.
