Bad Thursday

This is how last night went –

Me to Jonas who had just come downstairs in jammies with wet hair: Hey Jo, did you wash your hair really good?

Jo: Well, no. I didn’t take a shower.

Me: So… why is your hair wet?

Jo: Oh, because Gray and I had a wet blanket fight when he was in the shower.

Me: Wait, what? A ‘wet-blanket fight’? What does that mean? Am I like really drunk right now? That didn’t make any sense.

Jason: It made sense, but it didn’t make me happy. GRAY!!

Gray coming down the stairs also with wet hair and jammies: What?

Jason: What happened upstairs?

Gray: Jonas threw a blanket in the shower while I was in there and then put it in the toilet and then on his head.

Jonas: *Nods in agreement*

Jason and Me: WHAT??? Why didn’t you tell us???

Gray: Well that would be tattling.

Me: Nope, I’m not drunk enough.

And because he’s worked late every night this week and I was over the children Jason had to go upstairs and find the sopping wet blankets on the carpet in the boys’ room. You’d think it would be the other way around and that because he’d worked late I would say, “It’s ok, sweetheart, you sip your highball and relax. I’ll go upstairs and deal with the children,” but it’s not 1953 and mama’s got a finite amount of patience. Plus the lazy teachers took another day off and I have them home all day today.

I know, I know, you’re glad you’re not married to me.