Bedtime tonight was not a very fun time. The girls are too big to dump them all in the tub together, so the twins each take a shower and Cha takes a bath. And I have to supervise the showers or there would be lots of shampoo left in hair and two little someones would forget to wash their ears and I don't want to have to register my kids as potato fields. So, bathtime is not the fairly relaxed time it has been previously.
After the scrubbings, it was on to combing the hair. All the girls have bobs that are ear-length, so that's not too bad, but they all were energized from the washing and were going a little crazy. Finally, everyone was clean and combed and dressed for bed. Bebe and Lulu were drawing and being silly and ChaCha was playing with one of those popcorn popper toys -- they have a handle that ends on a bubble with popping beads and wheels so you can push it around and make a lot of noise and drive your parents nuts.
Except Cha was swinging the damn thing around. I think I've told all the girls to cease swinging various toys about, oh, six billion times. And you know where this is going, right? The thing connected -- hard -- with my lip. I cursed because, fucking hell, that hurt. Archie took the popper and raised his voice to Charlotte. She started to cry.
And I'm clutching my lip and trying to comfort the sobbing three year old.
I guess no one ever said it would be fun all the time.