Too much noise

There's a book Kolby loved as a kid called "Too Much Noise."   The story is about a man, Peter, whose house was too loud--the floors creaked, the wind blew, the teapot hissed, etc.  So he goes to a wise man and the wise man tells Peter to get a cow.  And then a goat.  And then a dog. And it goes on.  And of course, the house just gets louder.  Then the wise man tells him to get rid of the cow, goat, dog, etc. and when it's all gone and just him and the house, he realizes his house isn't so loud afterall.  It's actually quite nice.  The floor makes a lovely squeaking sound.  The wind blows melodiously threw the trees.  His teapot hisses joyfully.  

Kolby and I were talking last night and decided we're feeling like Peter.  After living with a cow, a dog, a donkey, a hen, and all other manner of worries for the last couple of years, it just feels so blissful to return to normal--going to work, cleaning the house, working out, making dinner. All that stuff that seemed so painfully mundane a few years ago, and now it just feels so quiet.  And peaceful.  And lovely.  

Although to be honest, I can't imagine I'll ever really enjoy laundry.