I managed to scrub both toilets, then hear a child screaming outside.

Why?

They won’t tell me, not with a straight story, anyway.

But somehow a can (large) of concentrated frozen orange juice is involved, as the contents were melting on the driveway next to an eight foot long bamboo stick. There was a bicycle in the gutter, and a child I don’t know pushing one of our bicycles back from across the street.

Ah, just a day in the life.

After I yelled at the boys about the orange juice (they claim they wanted to eat it like a popsicle), my oldest has started calling people. I found him hiding in the closet under a blanket, on the phone, leaving a message for my mom – probably telling her how mean I am.

I bet she’ll be laughing her ass off so hard she can’t call back for at least a couple of days.