I am grateful for the fact that my children like to hug and cuddle with me. I am grateful for their big, unpredictable heads crowded on my lap, knocking my tea cup so that tepid milky tea spills abundantly into my armchair. I am grateful for the fact that we have enough (just about) money that if Winton really, absolutely, completely and utterly befouls a pair of underwear while at preschool and the excrement hardens to the fabric over several hours until I discover them in a baggie in his school bag in the evening, I can with only small guilt, throw the underpants away. I am grateful for the fact that no one takes attendance at faculty meetings so my absence yesterday may not come back to bite me. I am grateful for the banjo my colleagues gave me as a wedding present six years ago, even though I still only know three chords and three Scruggs-style picking techniques. I am extraordinarily grateful that soon it will be summer, and I won't have to pretend to be responsible department chair as often.
And now essays to grade (I am not grateful).