6:30: door slams open and Joshua yanks me out of my solitude.
Josh: Moooomm! Casey said 'no' to me in a mean way!
Casey: He tried to play with my special toy!
Me: You woke me up at 6:30 because someone said no about a toy? (I'm not nice when I get woken up this way)
boys: Important jabbering, but..., cause..., he did...., yadda yadda.
Me: Go solve this one yourselves, please. And shut my door.
Me: ANYONE WHO TATTLES BEFORE 7:00 AM HAS A DEATH WISH!
feet scampering back to bed.
Later the same morning, Joshua is crying and holding his arm.
Josh: Casey hit me.
Me: Oh, that wasn't very nice. What happened?
Josh: I was just playing a game.
Me: What kind of game?
Josh: Where I kick him as hard as I can and see what he does.
The mother sighs and holds her head.
Me: You can't kick your brother, even in a game. Casey! Come in here.
Casey: I'm here. He kicked me first.
Me: I know. I've talked to him about not kicking but even when he does, you can't hit him. He's your little brother. You are supposed to take care of him.
Casey (under his breath): I was.
Yes, people, this is my life. Literally from before I wake up until they succumb to my best friend, Mr. Sleep at the end of the day.
You might think that this is in France but you would be wrong. It's really in little ol' Mantua, Utah. You have to say it in a French kind of way, though. It sounds like Man-O-Way. Cool.
Oh, and if anyone can save me from my kids, please comment.