Stacked firewood :: Sore back and delusions of instantaneous bulging of biceps.
Cleared leaves :: ibid.
Made lunch for 3 kids :: Only 2 kids ate, because obviously. Breathed deeply.
Dropped older kids at party :: Endured wrath of uninvited 5 year-old.
Took 5 year-old to arcade :: Endured wrath of 5 year-old for withholding candy.
Picked up older kids from party :: Endured wrath of older kids for limiting junk-food.
Took kids out for pizza :: Became inspired by a group of deaf parents at restaurant.
Lit Chanukah candles with kids :: Quietly pondered a life of minimalism while cleaning up the resultant mess of present opening.
Administered suppository :: Quietly pondered how I ended up alone with 3 kids administering suppositories.
Put kids to bed :: Binged on all the crap that I withheld from kids all day, because I’m an adult dammit and I’ll eat whatever I want, thank you very much.
Papa Used to Say 
Well, what do you think?