Matt smiled up at her. "Thanks, Mama."

Charlotte kissed his cropped head, stiff with way too much hair gel, and smiled. "You're welcome, honey."

They were now precisely two minutes behind schedule.

"After school we've got playtime from three to four and homework from four fifteen to five." Charlotte turned the van into the William Howard Taft Elementary dropoff lane. "Then you've both got Little League from six to eight. We're having falafel for dinner."

"Awful falafel," Matt mumbled from the backseat

"I'd rather have monkey chowder," Hank said.

Charlotte reveled in the sound of her kids giggling. It didn't happen enough these days. "And, Hank, your coach called to say they've decided to move you up to the majors thisyear."

"All right," the girl breathed.

"The majors? " Mart's voice was high and squeaky. "But that's not fair! She's only eight! I didn't get in the majors until this year! That's totally messed up!"

"Dork butt," Hank whispered.

"Freak," Matt hissed back.

"That's enough." Charlotte was now third in line behind two other minivans. "Get your stuff together. Matt, do you need a hand?"

"Duh-uh! I'm not a total Dorkus maximus, Mother. I can carry one stupid little volcano!"

Seconds later, Charlotte slapped herself on the forehead. She'd just witnessed the painstakingly sculpted mountain of flour paste slide off the cardboard into a shapeless blob on the sidewalk. She bolted out of the van and knelt next to Matt, stroking his back as the car horns blared.

"I'm so sorry, Mama." Matt's entire face was clenched tight and his already ruddy cheeks were on fire with embarrassment.

"It's okay, Matt. Let's just scoop this up and-"

"I've got it, babe."