“JIM! Can you get that?”

The ringing of the house phone seemed to be competing with the shrill screams of Cece and Phillip for who could hit the highest decibel that morning. It was a typical Friday in the Halpert household: Jim was getting ready to leave for work while Pam got the kids ready for school. It was usually on their most hectic days that Cece and Phillip decided to throw in an extra surprise. With Pam’s preparation for her gallery opening going on at work today, and Jim’s plan to take her out to dinner tonight, he wondered what sort of tricks his children had up their sleeves as he made his way into the kitchen.

He pulled the phone from the receiver, responding robotically as the receptionist on the other end confirmed dentist appointments for both Halpert children in the following week, taking in the chaotic fluidity of his family at breakfast.

The scene that unfolded in the kitchen before him was as predictable as the sun coming up in the morning. Pam was in the middle of two different arguments at the same time, while simultaneously making lunches for the four of them, and pouring orange juice into glasses. It was something of a superpower that Jim could never mimic himself.

“But momma, I wanted to wear the blue leggings today, not the purple ones!--”

“TOAST momma, TOAST!--”

“The blue leggings are in the washing machine right now so you’ll have to wear them another time. Phillip, that is toast, cut into squares like you specifically asked me for seven times this morning when you woke up.”

“UGH! WHY did you have to wash them TODAY? Now my whole outfit is going to look STUPID! I’m NOT GOING TO SCHOOL unless I get to wear my blue leggings!”

“But I wanted big ‘quares, not little tiny ones, momma! BIG ‘QUARES!”

And with that remark, Phillip threw his head back and wailed. Not uncommon when it was still before 10 o’clock in the morning--as he had definitely inherited his father’s “not a morning person” trait. But Jim definitely noticed tension building in the creases of his wife’s forehead as she removed the plate from in front of her howling son.

As Jim hung up the phone, making sure he wrote the appointment times on the calendar, Pam maneuvered her way around both of her disgruntled children. She balanced a backpack in the cradle of her elbow, Phillip’s plate in one hand, and a new piece of bread in the other. She shoved the plate of “too tiny toast” into Jim’s hands while simultaneously pushing the new piece of toast into the toaster, shuffling past him to the washing machine which had just ended its cycle.

“Sorry babe, looks like you get sloppy seconds toast today.”

He chuckled and gave her a sly grin, pushing a few pieces of the now soggy toast into his mouth as he approached the kitchen island. He gave Cece a kiss on her pouty cheek and ruffled Phillip’s hair before reaching for the stack of mail that had sat unopened in the middle of the island for the past week.

“Dada, can we play catch today af-er daycare?” Phillip asked, spinning back and forth on the stool, between slurps of orange juice.

“Well buddy, I’m sure we could do that tomorrow, but probably not tonight. Your mommy and I are going on a date.”

“And Emma’s coming to stay with us, right?” Cece chimed in, temporarily forgetting her wardrobe dilemma and focusing on the prospect of her favorite babysitter coming over to play later on.

“Mmhm, Emma’ll be putting you two tater tots to bed tonight,” he replied, as the toaster popped out Phillip’s breakfast.

“My toast, dada, my toast!”

“Where are you and momma going on your date?” Cece asked as she jutted her empty juice glass into his face.

He pulled the toast from the toaster and put it on a new plate, filling Cece’s glass with his other hand as he did so. He was no Pam, but Jim’s ability to multitask had certainly improved since becoming a father.

“I’m taking your mom out to a fancy Italian restaurant,” he returned, slathering butter onto Phillip’s toast.

“BIG ‘quares, dada, remember?”

He nodded, being careful to cut the toast as meticulously as he knew his son would want it.

“Oooo, so does that mean momma’s gonna wear makeup, and you’re gonna actually take a shower for once?”

At this, Jim choked on his own breakfast, and he was made aware of his wife’s return from the laundry room by the chuckle at their daughter’s remark.

“Daddy showers almost every morning, sweetie,” Pam defended him. “We just sometimes have to remind him to actually use soap. By the way, if you’d like to hold true on that threat to ‘only go to school if you get to wear the blue leggings,’ be my guest.”

Pam plopped the wet, straight-from-the-wash, blue leggings on the island in front of Cece.

Check and mate, Jim thought. Pam was a loving, caring mother, but she was also tough when she had to be. And this morning, she was not going to let her daughter disrupt the entire flow of things all because of a pair of pants.

Cece gasped, pouted for a few moments, and finally sighed, showing defeat.

“Fine,” she mumbled, clearly trying her hardest to hold a grudge. “But next time I get birthday money from Grandma, I’m buying two pairs of blue leggings.”

Jim chuckled at the resemblance that Cece had to her mother when she pouted. The only difference was in the way that her curly blonde pigtails bounced when she went, “Humph.” Otherwise, she was a spitting image of Pam.

“Hey momma, what’s a sloppy seconds?” Phillip queried, munching happily on his toast.

Jim once again retched on his own breakfast, Pam’s remarks to him only minutes ago now fresh in his mind.

Without missing a beat, Pam replied, “Well buddy, you made your first breakfast a sloppy mess, and daddy was the second person who had to try it.”

“OHHH,” Phillip began, his eyes wide with wonder as they did every time he added a new fact to his bank of memories. “So it’s kinda like when my friend Emmett from daycare licks the extra woah-gurt from everyone else’s cups when they don’t wanna finish it? Emmett has their sloppy seconds?”

“You know what, pal? Let’s maybe not call it that anymore,” Jim jumped in. “Maybe we’ll just call it ‘leftovers.’”

Phillip shrugged, biting the corner off of his last piece of toast before pushing the plate away and hopping off of his stool.

“I’m done!”

Pam stared at the plate of toast. Each of the four pieces had exactly one corner bitten out of them, and were arranged in a perfect square with each of the bitten parts forming a circle in the middle. She rolled her eyes, dumped the remnants into the garbage, and tossed the plate into the sink.

“Cecelia, finish up your breakfast or we’re going to be late. Shoes and backpack before iPad, Phillip!”

She returned to the laundry room to change the wash over to the dryer as Jim returned to the stack of mail, noticing a bill that was clearly past its due date.

“Hey Bees, did we pay the internet bill this month?”

Phillip’s ear-shattering cries from the living room answered that question for the both of them.

“MOMMA!!! PAW. PATROL. ISN’T. WORKING!!!”

She leaned out of the laundry room, her face painted in equal parts annoyance and frustration as she held up a soggy handful of laundry.

“And neither is the damn dryer. Looks like today is off and running with a bang.”

She began chucking clothes back into the washing machine as Jim signaled that he’d finish getting the kids ready for school.

He caught Phillip as the 4 year old ran back into the kitchen, the thickly-cased iPad cradled in both of his hands while crocodile tears stained his cheeks. Jim plopped Phillip back onto the kitchen stool, tossing the useless device aside and handing the boy his phone to use while Jim fastened the ties on Phillip’s shoes.

“Alright, buddy, go grab your backpack and head to the garage please. Cece! Shoes and backpack!” he bellowed over his shoulder as he snuck up behind his distraught wife, who was still clearly thrown off by this morning’s disturbances as she tried to make sense of their laundry situation.

He snaked his arms around her waist and buried his lips into her hair, holding her tightly to him.

“Good morning, Beesly.”

She chuckled, letting herself melt into his wide frame for a moment before turning around in his arms and stealing a quick kiss. With the rush that this morning had been, she realized that this had been the first time she had actually said hello to her husband.

“Good morning, yourself.”

“I’m looking forward to our hot date tonight.” With this remark, he waggled his eyebrows at her, eliciting the giggle, and feeling her muscles relax in his arms.

“I am too. It’ll be a nice break from all of the running around I’ve been doing all week. Add ‘calling somebody about the dryer’ to that list now.”

“But think about it this way: at the end of the day, it’ll be just you, me, and a boatload of carbs.”

“Ah, my favorite trio of things.”

She grinned up at her husband, stealing one more chaste kiss before heading to the foyer to grab her shoes and keys. He followed behind her, picking up lunchboxes as he passed by the island.

Both of the Halpert children were sitting peacefully on the top of two steps that led to their connected garage, heads touched together, as they watched the episode of Paw Patrol on Jim’s phone. Pam held up her arm to stop him, and the couple let themselves enjoy the moment. At 6 and 4, they knew they didn’t have many moments like this left. Mimicking their children, Jim and Pam leaned against one another, sharing a brief moment themselves before ushering their children out the door.

“So Emma is picking the kids up from school today,” Jim began as he buckled Phillip into his carseat, Pam doing the same to Cece on the opposite side of their minivan. “I should be home by 6, and we can just leave as soon as you’re ready. You have to set up for the gallery opening tonight, right?”

“Yeah, but it shouldn’t take us too long.” She rounded to the driver’s side of her car, meeting Jim in between their two vehicles. “I shouldn’t be too far behind you.”

“That’s what she said.” Jim smirked, closing the door to Phillip’s side of the minivan.

Pam chuckled before replying, “Save it for tonight, Halpert.”

At this, he gave her a wide-eyed stare, over-exaggerating his response to her implications before leaning down to give her a quick kiss goodbye and making his way to the driver’s side of his Toyota Camry.

“Keep it PG in front of the kids, will ya, Beesly? You’ve already got our four year old asking for sloppy seconds. Next thing ya know, we’re gonna be getting calls from the daycare asking why our kids have sailor mouths.”

She chuckled, throwing a, “Love you,” over her shoulder as she hopped into her own vehicle.

He let her pull out first, but she was barely out of the garage before she realized that, not only was it too quiet in the backseat, but that Phillip and Cece still had Jim’s phone. Plucking the device from her son’s grasp to toss out the window into her husband’s car, and preparing for what would ultimately be a headache of a car ride to school, she made her way through their quaint little Austin neighborhood.

In her rearview mirror, she saw her son’s face get redder by the minute, and her daughter’s pigtails wagging back and forth as Cece tried to calm the crying boy. Amidst the chaos of their morning, she couldn’t help but smile, and thank God for the life that she had woken up to.

She was married to the man that she would forever love, had two beautiful children with him, and was looking forward to a relaxing weekend with nothing but her family to focus on.

As she glanced in the rearview mirror once more, the troubles of their morning melted away: Cece had pulled a book out of her backpack and was “reading” to Phillip, mimicking all of the character voices--just like her daddy did. The grin that overcame her face couldn’t be greater.

Despite the hectic mornings that happened more often than not, it was these moments that overshadowed all the rest.