Just now I was in the bathroom, hanging up a brand-new, mildew-free shower curtain (!), and Yrsa was rummaging through the clean laundry that awaits folding in the bathtub. After a while she triumphantly drew up a pair of my underwear, which happened to be pink.

“Is this mine?” she asked. (It was the color that made her think so. Believe me, the days of underwear so skimpy they could pass for a four-year-old’s are long behind me.)

“No,” I told her. “It’s mine.”

“Yours? What is it?”

“A pair of underwear.”

“Pink is my favorite color,” she announced, then continued happily, “Thank you for having pink underwear!”

“You’re welcome,” I replied warmly.

If nothing else, I’ve learned that when raising five kids you have to take your appreciation where you can get it.