Summertime Sadness

It's the first day of summer vacation.

Note the lack of an exclamation point after that sentence.

My kids were up just after six, because of course.

They have already asked for cupcakes for breakfast (no) and to play outside (no. It's raining. And even if it weren't raining, there's no way I'm gonna get dressed enough at this hour - never mind motivated enough - to supervise four children as they all try to escape in different directions).

They have already bickered over a blanket (there are two on our couch and apparently the red one is warmer/softer/more awesome) and over whose feet are touching whom. I have heard, "He's trying to wipe a booger on meeeee!" and "He says he's going to bite my scalp!"

I have already had to say, "Go put some pants on!" and "Stop being so loud!" and "Just LEAVE. Your BROTHER. ALONE." I've had to issue creative threats before my brain is even awake enough to be creative.

Throw in some whining about boredom and some random neighborhood kids knocking at the door and disturbing the baby's nap and a few heinous messes and a whole lot of this ...

... and you've pretty much got my summer in a nutshell.

Is it school time yet?

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