The water damage to my kitchen wasn't quite as bad as getting thrown by a horse, but it was definitely worse than being chased by feral geese, beset by pantry moths, or bitten by an amorous iguana.
So maybe it was like getting thrown by a pony. A willful, sentient, but well-intentioned pony. We are all about ponies in my house this week, now that the third season of My Little Pony is on Netflix. Who says boys won't sit for stories about female characters? MLP is a veritable estrogen-fest, and my boys ask for it every day.
The boys have gone on being their delightful selves through all the kitchen disruption. Gareth and I practiced homeschooling over spring break. He can finally make a proper pencil grip with his fingers, and has fallen passionately in love with a math workbook. Conrad spent much of today chasing flocks of robins around in a park. Whenever they flew away from him, he would yell after them, "I not a predator! I Conrad!"