It's Friday afternoon. The boys have been home for two hours. They have been fighting for one hour and 59 minutes. D. is working late again and won't be home for dinner. I am trying to hold it together but starting to cry and feeling a little desperate.
Me: Boys! You have to stop. I'm not joking. This is not funny.
Moon: Why does he always have to follow me? I hate it.
Peanut: Blahblahblahblahblah (his actual words).
Me, officially crying: Look, I am close to the edge. If you continue to push me I am going to go over.
Peanut: Oh yeah? Where?
Peanut: That's what I thought. You're not going anywhere.