Today. . .

by 11 am, I have already done these things:

--Put Everett's pants back on him no less than 47 times.

--Cleaned up packing peanuts, balloons, and cards from various games that some little busybody tossed all over the place

--Told a screaming (did I say yelling? and screaming?) toddler that yes, he does have to eat his sandwich without pulling it all apart and only licking off the peanut butter.

--Cleaned up marker from the wall. Which, incidentally, was done by the only two non-washable markers in this house. The very same ones I thought were hidden away. Nope. Not well enough for a certain toddler's magnetism for trouble.

--Swore a hundred times over that I would never paint my house with flat paint. Once that stuff is marked up, nothing can fix it, not even a magic eraser.

--Tried to clean the marker off said toddler's arms, legs, hands, feet, and face. I promise. I really tried.

--Found the same toddler clutching something in his hand, in the act of raising it to his mouth but hastily turning away from me upon realizing he was spotted.

--It was poop.

--I still don't know where he found it.

I Asked, but all he said was "yuck"

[blech]

--Looked online to see if I could find a way to contact those children-stealing gypsies. Anyone have a good contact number?