'tis the season to be scary. I was making dinner the other day, so I got the boys all set up to play with some playdough at the front window where they can watch for Daddy to get home, because that way they a) leave me alone to make dinner. And b) have something to look forward to. And sure enough, soon I heard them calling "Dad's home!", right on schedule. He usually has a lot of work related paraphenalia to unpack from the car, so he doesn't exactly burst through the door right away, which we all know, so we all went back to our playdouging and dinner making until.... BOO! I didn't see the first surprise apperance of Dad, but I sure heard it, through the surprised shouts and screams of laughter from the boys. Apparently he'd snuck up through the garden on his hands and knees and them jumped up with a holler, inches away from their face on the other side of the glass. So funny. They were all pretty pleased about it, Hubs at his cunning, and the good reaction, and the kids just loved it.