Who's in charge of this place?

I write this to clarify to all my neighbors whom I know think I'm the craziest mom in the circle. Well, clarify maybe the wrong word. Confirm, works better.

Tonight was a wonderful spring evening. It started out with a quick meal that the kids fought over who would get seconds. A mothers dream come true. (Can you hear the soft music playing). We all cleaned off the table and the dishes were in the dishwasher with no complaining. (again the music) Then it was outside for some family play time in the warm sun. The 3 little ones wanted to go on a walk. I sent in my sweet Avery to get Easton.

Enter my real life.......

I hear screaming (Easton's). Avery had gone in and just turned Easton's wii game off without letting him save it. (side note: Saving a video game? remember Super Mario? There was no saving. 3 guys then you won the game or started over, from the beginning.) Anyway, I explain to Avery because of her poor choice we now can't go on a walk. She proceeds to: scream, kick off her flip flops, it hits the ceiling, and stomps to her room.

This isn't the bad part.

The rest of us go outside and play basketball. Carson decides he's done and goes inside. Avery yells from her window that they are going to take a bath and if they can have bubbles. I say NO. I clean up the toys and try to get into the house. TRY being the key word. ALL of the doors are locked. Avery and Carson are in the bath and don't hear the pounding on the door. They don't hear me screaming by the only open window that is 2 stories up. I resorted to throwing woofle balls at the bathroom window until they heard me and came to answer the door.

That wasn't the bad part either.

Avery opens the door wearing nothing but bubbles from head to toe. Carson right behind her looking the same. As I enter the house there is a trail of bubbles across the kitchen, up the stairs, through my bedroom, and into my bathroom. Where they have emptied an entire bottle of bubbles in the tub and then turned on the jets to my garden tub. It looked like Willie Wonka's factory.

You would think that was the bad part, nope.

The bad part was when my neighbor and her 3 kids knocked on the door and Easton opened it to me berating my 2 little angels about bubble's. There was still bubbles everywhere in the house, I was covered in them, the 2 little ones were standing on the stairs naked.

I live in a 3 ring circus.