As we squeal into the school parking lot, Tim holds out his finger and says, "This is what took me so long."
Blech! Infected bordering on septic, I'd say. Home again, home again to soak it, sterilize it, wrap it, and get the boy back to school.
I return home and shortly thereafter spot Ainsley playing in the toilet with my toothbrush.
"Toiwet," she chortles. "I did it!"
I round the corner into the kitchen just in time to spot John armed with a sharp object popping a hole in Ainsley's favorite ball.
"Why did you do that," I ask.
"Because I did," he responds.
John has a buddy over and spends ninety minutes ordering him around. John bawls his little eyes every time the browbeaten pal doesn't follow John's edicts to the letter.
I straighten the bathroom and note that we are down to our last roll of toilet paper. Minutes later I hear a splashing sound. I find the final roll submerged and Ainsley giggling.
Ainsley goes down for a nap. John wakes her up.
A babysitter stops by the house to watch the little people while I'm in the atrium. John takes her house key and pitches it in the bushes. They invest an hour trying to find the lost key.
I return home, find the key, go into the house to deal with John, and suddenly can't find Ainsley anywhere. I dispatch a search and rescue team. Moments later I find her raiding the Legos in the boys' room.
This week can only improve.