F.Y.I.

I came home from work one night at around nine o'clock. It must have been a hard night with the kids - I deduced this because they were all fast asleep. We usually don't put them to bed until nine, and they're still wide awake in their beds when I get home. As soon as I close the door, I hear this chorus of kiddo yells: "Moooooooooom, can I have a drink???" "Moooooooooooom, will you rub my face??" "Moooooooooooom, Daddy made me clean my roooooooom." "Moooooooom, hug and kiss????" It's cute.

So anyways, they were fast asleep, which led me to believe that Ben probably put them to bed an hour early. We sometimes do that when the kids are out of control. Which is a LOT this week, by the way. They've been out of school all this week, and of course, they'll be out all next week. I am going INSANE. Fighting, arguing, running around, hurting each other, hurting themselves... all. day. long.

Back to my story. So I go into the kitchen to hang up my coat, and I see this note on the counter, addressed to me:

For those who can't make it out: "To Karlenn S. Orenge juice and cranbarie juice makes a good drink." Very informative. And very true. :)