Our children have been absolutely, positively NIGHTMARISH.
They are ghouls haunting our souls with their terrible behavior. Over the past few days, their bad behavior has come to a rolling boil. The fighting, the screaming, the whining. I don't know if it's because they are so excited about Christmas and Santa ... or what, but it is bad.
The whole, "You better watch out, you better not pout" means nothing to our kids. You'd think the lyrics of the song were, "You better throw a fit, you better fight and yell, you better make your parents scream, 'WHAT THE BLOODY HELL!"
Tonight during what was supposed to be a beautiful candlelit Christmas dinner that Charlie and I spent much of the day preparing, in the midst of Henry screaming and Carolyn and William telling us how they don't like this - or that - or this or that on their plate, Elizabeth attempted to catch her paper popper hat on fire. I shudder to think what might have happened had she been successful. I'm imagining that the entire table would have gone up in flames once the hat ignited the tablecloth.
Everyone was sent directly to bed. There was no opening the one Christmas present that Charlie and I traditionally place on everyone's dessert plate. There was no reading, "Twas the Night Before Christmas." While I hate to use this word, the only word that I can think to adequately sum up their behavior is B-R-A-T.
Charlie and I told the kids that Santa is going to skip right over our house because we are planning to lock the fireplace. And yes. We are seriously considering filling their stockings TO THE BRIM with sticks, rocks and coal because I truly do not see any good that would come from condoning their terrible behavior. After the night that we've had, the last thing that I want is for our children to wake up to a house full of brand new presents.
But then - what in heaven's name do we do with our garage full of toys?!