Footprints

Tonight my little darlings were laughing and playing (translation - tonight my bratty little kids were wound up like tops, running around screaming and screeching) - while I cheerfully prepared a delightful dinner (translation - while I scowled in the kitchen trying to prepare dinner for them to turn their nose up at). After a prolonged period of time, my beloved returned home to joyous noises of frivolity (translation - hubby had to work late, after what seemed like a fucking life-time he got home to the little heathens shrieking like banshees). We enjoyed a delicious family dinner with lively conversation and much entertainment (translation - the little people immediately turned their noses up at the beans and rice, Super Girl whined for an hour about how much she didn't want to eat beans while Cabbage Patch only ate hers as long as she had pork rinds to scoop them up with, we continually told Super Girl to keep her whining down to a mere whisper so we could watch Enterprise which she also whined about not wanting to watch). As hubby and I enjoyed a bit of camaraderie the little darlings romped and played in a cloud of fancy (translation - hubby and I downed a glass of cheap wine in a lame attempt to forget the children were acting like maniacs as the kids snuck into my bathroom and procured the baby powder). As we took our little ones off to bedie-bye we witnessed little footprints of angels (translation - we saw that they had poured the powder on the floor by the little power footprints and then got the priviledge of cleaning up all the fucking powder). What joy.