I can tell, because I can't remember much about it.
Here are the baskets:
Let's count them: 1, 2, 3, 4.....5.
It happened. This was the year we stopped doing baskets for each other. We're lame.
Too tired to comb the children's hair.
Except for Ethan, whose hair is made of steel.
Does that make some of them sad?
Perhaps...but we have basketfuls of solutions.
And the laundry to prove it.