Who needs enemies when you have kids?

Who better to spoil perfectly laid-out plans better than your own flesh and blood? Who can make themselves a better nuisance? Who can wait until you have just finished a job to wreak havoc on all your hard work?

I try to keep a semblance of order here. But random acts of terrorism keep distracting me. Like the yogourt on the armchair this morning, and the linen closet door gaping open with half the bedcovers on the floor in front of it this afternoon. Or the endless spills of food and drink on the floor, and the kleenex soaking in the cat's water... Not to mention running after said terrorists themselves to, ironically, ensure their safety. What about my sanity?

And my husband wonders what I have to be stressed about...