It's only just barely past the first week of June and I'm already ready to send my kids back to school ... or to camp (but camping season doesn't start  'til next month).

The kids will not listen to me, no matter how much I yell at or punish them.  It's as if they turn a deaf ear to me or their father.  It's like we've turned into statues or something.

Maybe we're speaking Japanese or Spanish instead of English. I don't know, but they are acting like they don't have a brain in their heads.

Take this morning, for example.  I woke up to the sound of something crashing into the wall.  It sounded like the house was about to fall down in on us.  I thought it was a tornado, but when I saw sunlight streaming through the drapes, I knew it wasn't the weather.  It either had to be the cats or more than likely the kids.

When I went to check in on the kids, I was disgusted to find that our four year old son Micah had ridden his tricycle into the wall.  Literally.  Half of it was buried into the wall.  He was not hurt, thank goodness, but he was sitting on his bottom, a look of sheer horror on his small face.  He knew he had done something very wrong and was about to get busted big time for it by Mommy and Daddy.

All of a sudden, visions of repair men and repair bills danced in our heads. 

If that were not enough, Nevaeh, our six year old, announced that she didn't feel good.  Then as to prove her point, she erupted all over herself.  Not just a little, but a lot.  She then started howling as I picked her up and carried her to the bathroom, so she wouldn't mess up the carpeting.  Too late for that, I thought angrily.  Why didn't she tell me she didn't feel good?? I remember thinking to myself.

Turns out that Nevaeh ate something that she was allergic to and her body reacted violently.  Gluten.  Sighing, I threw her soiled clothes into the trash and had hubby-dear take it out to the garbage before the smell permeated the house; the room already stunk enough now of vomit.  It was enough to make ME want to join Nevaeh!

The day steadily went downhill from there, culminating with the fact that hubby-dear had just lost his job.  It was a day for the record books, and then people wonder why I want to go to the bar tonight and get blottoed.