They really Love each other
Now normally, I am hyper-organized. Much like Monica on Friends, I like everything in it's place. But things quickly got out of hand after the funeral. Instead of bills and receipts being filed away in their appropriate folders, they were stacked on top of condolence cards, homework, junk mail and basically any other piece of paper that found it's way into my home in the last six months.
A bottle of vino, and a few tissues later, I had it all stacked and sorted. And it wasn't near as painful as I thought it would be. (That could be attributed to either my iron-like fortitude, or the fact that I was downing a fifty dollar bottle of wine. Who knows.) In the end, I was left with all of my tax related papers, a stack of well wishes and one or two reminders why I chose to have children in the first place.
Amongst various poetic ditties and Picasso-like art pieces, I discovered my son's ode to his sister. Perhaps I should worry. But I think, unless the eggs start disappearing, we will survive.