It was quiet.

Very quiet. Too quiet for three toddlers to be up to anything good. Girls... what are you doing? I hollered out of the den.

No answer. I walked out into the hallway. God, it smelled good, like flowers... or maybe perfume? Oh my god. Lotion!!!! My Vicoria's Secret lotion!

I ran to my bedroom where I caught the three girls, shaking with glee, coating themselves and the surrounding objects with white perfumed lotion. I didn't even have to check to know the entire bottle had been spent. Toddler-sized handprints signed the edge of my bed. The two-foot-long flashlight was covered with gobs of lotion (that gave me a giggle - the impressions something like that would make if a snoop would find it).

Best of all, the children were thoroughly moisturized. Note the grins on their innocent little faces.

I managed to scrape most of the lotion off the carpet and the bed. Our whole house reeked of Victoria's Secrets' idea of "Heavenly." I'm pretty sure I'll never be able to buy that lotion again. Ever.

Because my children never get into trouble: Alison climbed the cupboard to pass out jelly beans, Emma found a blue crayon and drew on my walls, Kristin stole Mike's golf Wii remote and walked around whacking everything in sight, all three girls took turns crawling across the back of the couch and down onto the coffee table, Emma stuck craft gemstones all over the patio door, and Emma dumped out a laundry basket which I was using to collect their toys from throughout the house. This was all while I was supervising.

Why is it that my children can cause this much trouble when I'm walking through the house listening for trouble, while Mike can pop in a movie, give them snacks and play on the internet and the girls cause absolutely no problems??? Even better: Mike can give them absolutely nothing besides crackers to eat all day, and as soon as I walk in the room, they yell for real food. I'd love to hear any theories. Oh, I know. It's because they are aliens pushing the limits of human sanity. I have to keep reminding myself because I almost lost it today. It caused me to start drinking at precisely three o'clock.

So around suppertime, I had a few neighbors drop by to ask a favor. While I was chatting with them for about five minutes, the girls disappeared. After the last guest left, I found Alison in the bathroom with poo water up to her armpits and the whole roll of toilet paper in the pot. She looked at me and immediately said, I'm sorry. I was calm. I haven't been spanking my kids, but I wanted to see what she'd say. Do you want a spanking, or do you want to sit in the hallway? All she'd respond with was an I'm sorry. I said, No, do you want a spanking, or do you want to sit in the hallway? She seemed confused by the question and we went through it once more. She finally chose to sit in the hallway. I made her sit where she could see me clean the pee water off the floor, toilet, and cupboard.

Can you blame me that once supper was served, I collapsed on the couch and resigned all the parenting duties to Mike?