My wonderful, dear, sweet children choose every single time we are with Kenny's family to act their worst. Seriously. Today was not unlike any other time. Kenny's mother's birthday party is tomorrow, at our house. His sister and I met up for some grocery shopping. I, fool that I am, actually welcomed the chance to get the kids out of the house this afternoon. They were stir crazy. I didn't want them swimming, getting overly exhausted before this evening. Because tonight? Well, they are going to watch the Cheetah Girls movie premiere at the neighbor's house. Which means five glorious hours while they girls are doing what every other little girl in the nation will be doing tonight....gluing themselves to the television and singing along with those damn Cheetah Girls. Learning every word to every song, so that they may torment us parents for the next several months or until that next High School Musical movie comes out and they can torture us with those songs. I told my children all they had to do was act reasonably sane while we were at the store, and they could go to the party tonight.
But they didn't. Jill has bite marks on her arm from where Emmi bit her after they fought over who got to hold the popcorn. Jill retaliated by knocking Emmi out of the cart. Emmi then psycho attacked Jill complete with screaming and waving arms. I pretended they weren't my children and walked as far away as possible.
I should take away the party. But then I loose my quiet time. My time. So instead, I told them they aren't going, unless they complete a long list of chores (each worth a certain amount to "buy" back their party privilege) and act like sane little children until the party starts. You could say I am a sucker. But I see it as pure genius. Quiet time AND all of the laundry folded.
***Also why the hell does my dog thing the couch is her's, and I am infringing her on space?