Okay ... my kids have somehow gotten a warped sense of what makes me happy. Well, I shouldn't say "kids" ... I should say "boys", because the girls don't even attempt to make me happy. Actually ... even though they are only 4 and 2, I think they conspire to do just the opposite.
Really.
I think they are in co-hoots to send me over the edge. The edge that leads directly to the looney bin. There is a padded room there ... with my name on it. Just sitting empty, waiting for me ... because it is inevitable that I will end up there. In that small room with a crappy cot and bad food. Never mind that the food would probably be what I make here. But, that is beside the point.
ANYWAY - This morning, as Big Daddy shook the boys, flickered their bedroom light on and off and hollered that it was time to get up and come eat breakfast ... Drew emerged and found himself one door down in my bed.
"Mom!" he exclaimed, "Mom, look!"
Of course, I couldn't see through the sleep in my eyes and the pillow that I was using to block out the tiny bit of light managing to seep through our blinds. "What? Just 5 more minutes!"
"Mom! Jake said this would make you really happy. Last night, we got dressed. And slept in our clothes ..."
"YOU DID WHAT?"
"Yeah, we got dressed and slept in our clothes ... so now you'll only have to yell at us to eat our breakfast and brush our teeth. You won't have to yell at us to get dressed. We're already dressed. Jake knew you'd be SOOO happy."
"Great!" I tried to sound excited, but I was really wondering where in the hell I've gone wrong with this whole parenting thing.
