My nights have been increasingly interrupted by a son who, in his effort to NOT go gently into that dark night (literally, not figuratively) ends up awakening me… and occasionally his baby brother… and also his sister.  Oh.  And his dad.  And the dogs.  As a result, when pre-bed chatting time occured tonight, I specifically told them that if they awaken in the night, they should NOT call for me.  Instead they should think of something like how awesome God is or how fun it is to have an extra dog for awhile or how excited they are to go to Bible study in the morning, toll over and GO BACK TO SLEEP! (the highlighted portion being the most important part)  My son promptely looked at me and stated "Or golfballs." Being somewhat confused, I allowed my befuddlement to play gently across my features (I’ve been reading classics, get over it) and he responded by saying, as if the answer to my unspoken question was terribly obvious…, "We could think about LOTS of golfballs."   
Yes, son. That would be a great thing to think about… while you’re NOT waking me up.
I was so exhauseted and also irritated with my child for keeping me awake over the last many nights that I was determined to get through a shower and into a better mood before dealing with them this morning.  As a result I caved and sat them in front of a DVD while Asa slept and told them where I was going to be and the most important thing that they should not do.  As soon as I shut the water off, I hear "Mommy, mommy!" from the culprit of the last many nights.  Irritated afresh, I scolded, "Mommy is VERY BUSY!  What do you need?"  only to hear "OKAY" ringing from the next room before "Busy" was finished being said.  Shrugging, I went back to getting prepared for a day of being a patient, loving mommy.  When I emerged, I found my son with paper towels mopping at our futon.  Lithany had somehow DRENCHED the entire seat with her water bottle (she’s got a talent for stuff like that) and my usually comotose-when-TV-is-on-even-credits-or-blue-screen son had not only left his beloved entertainment to get help, but finding that I was busy took it on himself to find paper towels and work at cleaning the mess for his little sister.  How can you be irritated with a three year old that is that responsible??? You can’t.  This is one day where the spills worked in favor of my attitude instead of against it.
In cuter news, my children were taking turns peek-a-booing at our baby boy from beneath my legs today while he cracked up each time he saw their faces… in turn cracking them up and consequently causing me to laugh also.  They could do a million and three annoying things in the last hour and still be able to erase all my feelings of displeasure while they are laughing at one another hysterically.  (A million and four.. they might have to be more creative)
I think the hooligans might actually be asleep, so I do believe I’ll join them in case thinking about golf balls doesn’t lead them back to slumber tonight.