My children have some sweet survival instincts.

I swear I was plotting their demise all day today. Yesterday was the day. The day that I decided the smackdown was coming. I was totally ready. Writing a lecture; flowchart of consequences.

And then...

They have such funny senses of humor that I just let go of the total disregard for my parental authority. For example:

I asked Claire how lunch was today (I guess because I just love hearing how poorly I execute that job), and she exclaimed, and I really mean exclaimed, "Thumbs up for the real deal!" With the thumbs up, of course. I couldn't stop laughing. Especially since I pack exactly the same thing every single day. Peanut butter crackers, Capri-Sun, string cheese, piece of fruit, and a treat. Today was fruit snacks. Is that the magical key? Couldn't be since they've had them all week.

Gabe stacked up all the plastic toy buckets in his room, climbed up, and tried to get something off the shelf that is above even my head. A huge bang and scream later, I find him with wall rash on his forehead and a goose egg on the back of his head.

But later he makes a ghost face and chases us all around howling, "OoooooOOOOOOOooo!" and wiggling his fingers. Then he explains, "It's Halloween."

Charlotte gets out of hot water by helping me do everything she sees me try to do. And playing it off like she doesn't think I'm incapable. How compassionate. Still, it's sweet and funny, and I appreciate the help b/c she is certainly effective.

So, for your viewing pleasure, Gabe's ghost face: