a need for gypsies. again.

Oh, what a day.

It was another day of whining, fighting, rude little children. Unfortunately for me, I couldn't just walk away and pity those poor parents. I was the one who had the unruly children.

My mom and I took the 3 kids to Chocolate World for the day. We literally had just pulled out of the driveway when the fighting began. And why didn't I take that as a sign? I continued my trek to Hershey, PA hoping and praying for a nice day with my kids, my mother and my French teenager. For the most part, I can happily say that it was a nice day. But there were moments where I wanted to wring their little necks.

I think I hit my breaking point when we were standing in the holding room before we entered the theater for the 3D show. Once again, my two oldest children were at it again.

"She poked me in the eye with her ticket."

"He pinched me."

So, I did what any mother would do in a crowded room while waiting for the doors to open. I made them sit crisscross applesauce on the floor, facing each other, nose to nose.

They weren't happy.

But neither was I.

My punishment was short lived because the little old man opened the door to allow us to enter the theater.

They were relieved.

I was not.

The rest of our day was somewhat without stress. After the show we all ordered ice cream. It wasn't a treat for the kids, but more of a reward for me because I hadn't killed my offspring. {I had a wonderful chocolate shake. I highly recommend it.}

We left Chocolate World and proceeded home. Again, they were at each other's throats. I told them in my nicest voice {bahahaha} that they were to go up to their bedrooms immediately when we got home.

I was afraid for their lives.

My husband came home from work and it took us an hour to figure out dinner plans. Pizza it was! We went to one of our favorite pizza places and of course, we had to separate the little boogers. Our table seating chart was: Mike, Ethan, me, Maya, Marie, Landon. We were able to eat our pizza in peace. On the way home, Mike stopped to refuel and put air in the tires. Well, no sooner did he get out of the car, they were at it again.

**Now, I must warn you. If you have any qualms about creative punishment or if you feel as though children should be dealt with in an old fashioned way, I implore you to discontinue reading this post. **

I calmly opened my door, opened the sliding door and told them to get out.

Seriously, I made them get out of the car.

And then locked it.

So, my children sat outside on the curb while my husband put more air in the tires. I don't think they were too worried until Mike actually got in the car and started it up... without them in it.

I won't bore you with the nasty little details of my discussion with my children before they were allowed to climb back into my car and go home with us. It was a quiet ride home, though. And as we were driving, I was looking for some gypsies who might like a 10 year old little girl and an 8 year old little boy. No such luck.

I'm contemplating buying a one way ticket to Paris next week. Marie may need a chaperone on her way home...