A Horror Story fit for a Monday Morning

Mr. T, and I sat down with our children at our wits end a couple days ago. Funny, but whatever it was that broke the camels back on Saturday, can't even come to my recollection right now (here's a HUGE hint to myself: if it doesn't at all matter now, it shouldn't have mattered so much to me right then...right?)

But. It. Did. Boy did it ever matter to me.

So, we sat the kids down and talked about ALL the naughty things we'd ALL done and we decided that we'd try hard not to be so naughty this coming week.

Church on Sunday was Perfect! (I can't say that too often, but it really was.) I think it was because Little Henners fell asleep during Sacrament meeting. Boy, he's a handful.

And 5 am came WAAAY to early this morning for comfort. And I just couldn't get Henry or Hallie back to sleep. So we were up. And, remembering our efforts to be super good and kind to one another, I decided to make the most of it and stretch with the kiddos. We did some down-dogs, some cats and cows, we saluted the sun, and relaxed our legs and hips with the butterfly.

Then, breakfast.

Then, dishes.

Then (can someone insert the theme from Jaws here?) came the pitter patter of two little pairs of feet up and down the hallway by our bedrooms. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

And they were quiet.

That's when I became curious. I turned my head around the corner of the kitchen and I saw it. One little body running down the hallway with a SUPER LONG stream of Toilet Paper running along behind her.

I screamed. But, looking back on the incident, I don't think my scream was shrill, or blood curdling. It was a different scream than I have ever encountered. It was a surprised and "I'm about to lose my mind" sort of scream.

I cautiously took each step toward the hallway to examine the damage. (This is the part of the Horror Story where you yell out loud: NO, DON'T GO LOOK IN THE HALLWAY) I should have just turned around and not even gone to look, but look I did, and scream more I did. And I cried.

There were two rolls of toilet paper torn in pieces ALL OVER MY BEDROOM. (It's still there...I can't face it just yet.)

And, now as I sit here and ponder this event, I wonder: What will my kids remember from this? Will they remember my screaming "YOU KNOW BETTER THAN THIS." Or will they remember how fun it is to toilet paper something?

I think I failed. Again. I should have had the composure to just laugh and merrily send them on their way to the naughty chairs. But, I didn't.

And I'm sure when I try to recollect this memory to tell someone just HOW naughty my children were earlier in the week, I probably won't remember exactly what it was that they did.