Tonight was the typical chaos of dinner-bath-bed, DBB, as I call it. DBB is always loud and full of laughing, crying and yelling. Usually it's Violet laughing, Van crying and Jack yelling. Well, and me and Ethan yelling too.
First is dinner. Grilled barbecue pork chops and roasted broccoli. Jack inhales his dinner, while saying things like, "Mom! This broccoli is so good, I am having a moment." And then he leans back in his chair and closes his eyes while he chews. Van doesn't eat anything. He just prances around the room, trying to make Violet laugh. Which she does do in between mouthfuls of broccoli and pork. No one can make her belly laugh, only Van can.
Once dinner is done, Daddy Dearest takes the children outside to play while I quickly clean the kitchen. Jack and Van fight over the scooter and Violet sits on Daddy's lap, watching the argument. Daddy sides with Van and Jack pouts. Mom is wearing her yellow rubber gloves and giving the kitchen it's just dues.
After kitchen in clean, Violet is given her last warm bah-bah of the day and she lays on the floor, hands clutching either side of the bottle. Daddy Dearest is given the task of managing the yard clean up. Bikes, trikes, scooters, ramps and army paraphernalia are all scattered and needing gathering. Moaning, complaining and crying ensue. Van yells, "5 MORE MINUTES!!!!!!!!!!!" Daddy says no and he continues to wail. Jack tries to grab too many army things at once and every time he bends down to pick something up, he drops another thing.
Finally, everyone is herded upstairs. Mom continues to tidy up. Dirty clothes, army guys, monster trucks, books, socks. Daddy Dearest fills the tub with water and then children. More arguments.
"I want to sit in the front! It's my turn!"
"No! My turn!"
"I don't want to get washed!"
"There is soap in my eyes!"
"I want a bah-bah!"
First, Violet is washed. And then lifted out of the tub, wet and slippery and then put into a towel, almost like a big fat fetus. She gets some baby lotion love and some warm jammies. Then she is paraded through the bedroom and bathroom for her final farewell of the day. Like a good girl, she goes right to sleep, sucking on her left thumb and clutching her pink silky blanket. Nigh-night, Violet Girl.
Next, the boys. They get a quick scrub, amid their complaints. After, they nget taken out and toweled up, but not before sufficiently attacking the argument of "who gets to unplug the tub".
Finally, through some magical ways, they boys end up clean, jammied and in my bed, ready for some book reading. "Boogie Knights" and "My Little Brother and Me". Before the reading starts, Jack talks about how he sleep-leaked all over himself last night. He was too tired to remember to pull his drawers down before peeing. So there he stands, in front of the toilet, fully clothed and pees all down his legs. We all sat on the bed and laughed our heads off.
Van's sees that Jack is telling his last night's story so Van starts with his. "Ghost! So scary! I can't see!" He allegedly had a dream about a ghost.
Both children continued to give us their story from last night and I looked at Ethan and said, "We used to just like to makeout a lot and date each other. Look at us now."