Insta-family: Day 5, A night to remember

• 9:00:  All kids in bed.  We pat ourselves on the back for a job well done.
• 9:01: Squiggles wants a different water bottle
• 9:02:  Not that water bottle, a “hudder one” water bottle
• 10:05:  Lily is angry.  She says (I’m interpreting “whaaa wha wha whaaaaaa” for you) “Hey, Milk Lady.  Fix my eyes immediately. They are oozing evil.”
• 10:30: Squiggles wants her mommy.
• 10:31:  Squiggles wants her daddy.
• 10:32:  Squiggles wants her mommy.
• 11:00 Lily is VERY angry.  She says, “It is patently absurd that you have not fixed the eye situation, Milk Lady.”
• 11:30:  Squiggles wants to yell.  “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH,” she says.
• 12:30:  Bryn is suddenly beside my bed.  She is quiet and stealthy and appears out of nowhere.  “Bad dream.. stuff.. dark figure…”  This is serious – we have a nice talk.
• 2:00:  “Milk Lady, bring me my milk!”
• 2:30:  “MORE MILK!” 
• 3:00:  Squiggles is having a bad dream.
• 3:30: “MORE MILK, MORE MILK, MORE MILK, WHAT PART OF ‘MORE MILK’ DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND, IMBECILE MILK LADY!”
• 4:30:  We hear coughing, then gagging, then gurgling.
• 4:30:01:  Ninja Bryn is at our bedside.  “Ivy just puked all over.”  And just as suddenly, Ninja Bryn is gone.
• 4:30:30:  I have a flashback – earlier that day, we took Ivy to McDonalds.  A choice that will haunt me for a long time.
• 4:31:  Tim is carrying Ivy into the bathroom. He washes McNuggets and McApples and McFries and all other manner of McEvil from her hair.
• 4:35:  Tim is pulling McGross off Ivy’s blanket and putting a load into the washer.
• 4:36:  I realize that I made the right decision marrying Tim.
• 4:40:  I am blow drying Ivy’s hair.
• 4:41:  Cough, gag, gurgle, and suddenly I am blow drying McMore McEvil.
• 4:50:  I finish blow drying Ivy’s hair and we set her up a temporary bed.
• 5:30:  Lily:  “I’d like some more milk, mother dearest.”
• 6:30:  “Is there anymore milk?”
• 7:00:  Happy voices.  Time to start the day.  Amelia jumps on the bed, then onto my person, and says (in the sweetest voice ever), “You want to have some breakfast, Mommy???”

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Epilogue:

• 9:30 am: I have successfully driven an hour and twenty minutes in traffic to drop Squiggles and Lily off at preschool.  I pat myself on the back for a job well done and try to plan what I’ll wear to the holiday party.
• 9:30:30:  I realize that I’ve somehow locked myself out of my car.  Keys inside.  I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror – my eyes are blood red. Am I crying?
• 9:31:  No, I am not.  I have yellow evil oozing out of my eyes.  Thanks, Lil’.
• 9:32:  Call Tim.  “Wanna take McPukey for a two-hour drive to unlock my car?”