This evening after supper, we were sitting around the table while the girls were doing their usual song and dance routine. This evening's offerings included a made-up play that was totally incoherent involving "Little Bo Peep, who sat on her sheep," and other general nonsense. (The highlight of the show was the part when the straight-haired girl rambled on for quite some time about every topic under the sun, while the curly-haired girl danced and attempted to lip sync.)
After they wound down, the daddy grabbed the curly-haired girl and told her he loved her and gave her a hug. She responded, "Daddy, you need to shave your eyebrows and get a more suitable smell." The daddy would like me to point out that she was referring to the pervasive carpet glue scent on his clothing, not matters of personal hygiene.
This is what we do when the sun goes down at 4:30 and the temperature is 35 below zero.