I am fairly certain that I didn't have 3 little boys running around my house this afternoon.
Someone replaced them with tigers. Wild ones.
After what was a fun and (mostly) under-control morning with friends, we came home...and the wild beasts came out.
Things escalated quickly from fighting over toys to chasing and pushing and screaming. From there the day began to spiral out of control. At one point someone was chasing the other two while brandishing an ice scraper. While they were putting on pajamas I made a quick trip to the basement. How silly of me. While I was down there Thing 2 decided to throw his shirt into a toilet full of his brother's poop. Yes. You read that correctly. Thing 1 pulled the shirt out of the toilet, flinging excrement around the bathroom, and carried the dripping shirt across the house to the dirty clothes basket. At bedtime Shorty was pushed out of bed and onto the floor not once, not twice, but 3 separate times by his brother.
Somehow we managed to successfully decorate Easter eggs in the middle of all the action. Small miracles.
Tomorrow is another day.
I'm not sure if that is hope or resignation in my voice.