It’s Friday afternoon. Tommy and Mike are at baseball practice and I’m trying to relax on the couch, Toddlers & Tiaras on the TV, Us Weekly in my lap. (Yet only iced tea in the cup next to me — strange.) Kaylee and Colleen come running in with a friend asking for a snack. With 20 minutes until dinner and two children notorious for being “full” at mealtimes, I just couldn’t give in. All three very politely said OK and went to play in Kaylee and Colleen’s room. Sensing a disturbance in the force, I mute the TV and turn an ear toward the bedroom. Yep, that’s definitely a chewing sound. That I can hear from DOWNSTAIRS.

“Are you eating candy up there?” Silence.

“ARE YOU EATING CANDY UP THERE????”

Suddenly I realize they can’t answer me because their mouths are too full of candy. But all too soon they swallow and the silence is broken:

“I’m not but they are!” “You were too!” “You said you wouldn’t tell!” “You promised!” “Stop yelling at me!” Crying and screaming over each other. At this point I’m wishing I had just let them have the damn candy.

Friend goes home. Kaylee and Colleen sulkily eat dinner. TV and magazine go unwatched and unread. But I think I’ll have that glass of wine now.