… My posts would read more like:
I woke up at 4AM to find myself lashed to the bed. Layers upon layers of Rainbow Loom chain shackled my arms and legs, ensuring I’d petrify before I could break free.
“This will teach you to make us eat vegetables!” screeched the caped crusader Dino from his perch on my pillow. “Crime never pays, wicked Mommy!” Then he farted in my face and roared with laughter as he fanned the stench of carrot-tainted methane to my burning nostrils.
“Yeah!” sneered his hench-baby Taz from the master bathroom. She’d colored all the grout between the tiles just the perfect shade of lime green sharpie, and was rappelling down the shower wall anchored by the designer jeans that looked great on me before I had kids.
“Is that my cold cream in your hair?” I asked. I had to admit, it looked better with $20 an ounce Burts’ Bees royal jelly than her usual Desitin pomade.
“EVERYTHING YOU OWN IS OURS!” screeched my little darlings in stereo.
My husband snoozed.
Then, just as suddenly as they’d turned on me, Dino and Taz ran at me for hugs. Dino barked and licked my face like the puppy he thinks I’m going to get him (not before he grows up and moves out). Taz blew her nose on the sleeve of my new pajamas and gave me that glorious smile that always melts my heart.
All was right with the world.