I called a couple of times and all was well but around 4:45 Ciera called to tell me "Mom has been in the bed ALL day, Rakes and Trot keep coming in my room, and Trot is eating blueberries all over the house."
I responded with the always lame and typical male comment of "What am I supposed to do about it?"
"Talk to them, Dad!"
So I did. With threats of bodily harm, spankings, military school, and making them sleep outside for the next two weeks.
Amazingly when I got home? They were as quiet as church mice. Now, I'm not so vain that I thought my talk hit home. More like the Wendy's cheeseburgers, fries, and the fact some new, unseen Spongebob episode was on made the difference, but for the next 3 hours they were about as calm and quiet as one could expect.
It did take me about 30 minutes to clean up the house but it's summer, they are 7 and 5, and for once didn't get to go to the pool so I really can't complain.
Although if Ang doesn't feel better soon I don't know how far this Father Knows Best/ Leave it to Beaver crap is gonna last.
Trot had a weird look in his eyes when I put him to bed.
I may have to sleep with one eye open.