My brain is tired. It is a fatigue brought about by the constant grumbling of malcontents within our walls. The whining, the poking, the chasing and squealing.... they are slowly eating away at my brain cells. Soon I will have the IQ of an amoeba.
Them (In the house):
He took that from me! Well I had it first! She hit me! But it was an accident! I didn't MEAN too! AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (screamed at high pitch while running down the hallway)! Stop that! MOOOOMMMMMM!
Me: Wondering if letting one sleep outside with the dog would earn a trip from Child Services.
Them (In the car):
Youngest child mimicks sound of passing gas. Brother smirks and says: "She pooted on me!" Both dissolve into insane giggles. Body function humor escalates into poking, prodding and smacking and inevitably loud complaining about who started what and who is hitting whom.
Me: Wondering at this point if tying them to the roof of the car for road trips would be immoral, illegal or both.
Them (In the yard):
Child in bathing suit doesn't want to get wet. (?) Brother blasts her with the hose anyway. Wild screaming ensues. Puppy is now inflamed by screaming excitement and joins in by jumping, tearing at clothing with teeth and in general, adding to the mayhem. Child with hose repeatedly sprays water onto patio despite requests to keep it in the yard. Child in bathing suit wants to watch ants in ant hill. Child in bathing suit gets bitten by ants after being warned more than once to move.
Me: Wondering if tiny hint of 'told ya so' in the back of brain should induce guilt. It doesn't.