I don’t know about your home but Sundays in our home don’t look like the picture-perfect reels or the “slow living” posts. They look like real life — loud, quiet, messy, funny, frustrating, and full of people who come and go like we’re running a 24‑hour diner. David is at work. Gerald is camped out on the couch waiting to see if my sister is coming after church. The boys — and depending on the week, “boys” could mean Bradley and Charlie, or William, Bradley, Tim, and Charlie, or just Tim — sleep in and wander home sometime today like stray cats who know where the food is. B may…