The kids are complaining that it's too light to go to bed, the fire ants are in full swarm mode, and Brendan is now climbing out windows to escape the house. "No really, dear sweet neighbor, Brendan couldn't possibly be running down the street 10 houses down banging on a plastic IKEA plate like it's a snare drum because MY FRONT DOOR IS LOCKED."
And apparently the kitchen nook window is wide open.
That boy. Always keeping me on my toes.
You would think that by now he would know that I will drag his 145 pound butt home by my fingernails if I have to.
And guess what?