It starts off with Moira and Lincoln running into our room like a herd of elephants, and coming over to my side of the bed (which is furthest from the door for a reason, not that they care). I tried to pretend like I was still asleep, but Lincoln starts saying "Mama, mama, MAAAAAAMMMMMMAAAAAA" in that super whiny voice. Then it hits me...why is Lincoln out of his crib? I blearily try to wake up (I believe I've mentioned I'm not a morning person) as Lincoln is trying to climb up on the bed. It is too tall for him, so he gets frustrated and grabs the TV remote off my nightstand and decides to start hitting me in the head with it instead. Meanwhile Moira is watching all this with a big smile saying "Silly Winkin!" yeah, silly Winkin my butt...that remote hurts! Obviously Dennis is doing a better job of pretending to be asleep then I am, so I shuffle the babies out of the room. Yes, my 'good wife' deed of the month is now completed. I bring the babies downstairs where I find the older boys playing Wii, and otherwise looking like amoebas. They have on shorts, socks, underwear and a shirt...unfortunately that is only 4 articles of clothing split between the three of them. I asked if they knew how Lincoln got out of his crib and Spencer said Moira woke him up (probably by climbing into his crib, she's been doing that this week) so Spencer got him out before he started crying and woke us up. AWWW, well, that cut through a bit of my normal morning grump, that was sweet of him to try to let us sleep in. I start my coffee brewing, get the boys to put on at least one or two more articles of clothing. I sit down to enjoy my coffee, and the boys have drifted back to the video game and their apparently boneless state. I take that first head clearing sip of my delicious coffee....and Moira starts screaming. And, I don't mean a wimpy "ahhhh" scream, I mean a full out blood curdling Freddy Krueger is behind me scream. Because I'm only human I think "darn it! not until after my coffee!" but because I'm the mama I put my cup down and run over to see what is wrong. Turns out there is a fly in the house which Moira insists is a bee. And it's hard to convince her otherwise. So she is absolutely terrified screaming whenever it gets within 10 feet of her. This prompts her intrepid older brothers to jump up, like ninjas, off the various horizontal surfaces they were sprawled out on. They then grab any and all weapons they can find, which isn't much since we don't allow them to play with toy weapons (or real ones either). So, Spencer has a pajama shirt, Gideon has a pajama bottom, and Bastian, my little warrior, has an empty wrapping paper roll. I grab a newspaper and we start hunting the fly. Should be easy, right? It's 4 humans against 1 little fly. Moira is the spotter. We can tell when she see's it by the way she screams, well, like a girl, and hops around flailing her arms yelling "It's right here! It's gonna get me! It's gonna get me!!" so we go running to where she is, and we're all jumping around like human sized Mexican jumping beans waving our various weapons around without hitting anything except each other. This continued for a good 10 minutes, until we couldn't find the fly anymore. I seriously believe it died from laughing at what goofballs we all looked like.
Meanwhile, as we were running around seeking the dastardly fly, Lincoln was sitting on the couch reading one of my cake decorating magazines laughing at us each time we went by. I do believe he was thinking "Yes, dance for me, monkeys! Dance for me!"
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