While busily preparing dinner few months ago, I commented to a friend on the phone that I was, "just worn out." It had been a long day that began too early and I was trudging grudgingly through what remained to be done before bed time. A few minutes later, I noticed Chloe, my 8 year old, in a creative frenzy with paper, markers, glitter. . . (she gets that from her artist father, my creative frenzy looks like dessert ). I was commanded not to look. She next requested help from a sibling to drag a card table upstairs. A few minutes later she began squirreling away with dishes from my kitchen. I had a pretty good idea of where this was going; my 8 year old is an incurable romantic. (The only one in our house, I might add.) I, not being quite as romantic in my nature, was thinking of the work involved in cleaning up her scheme, but I digress. By the time my husband got home I had dinner ready (can you hear the heavenly angels singing? They do that when I can manage to have...