Mommy are you mad?

This past weekend, after taking out Easter baskets, grass, plastic eggs (one still filled with forgotten candy--score!), and all Halloween party supplies for our upcoming playgroup party and leaving them all around the basement floor, Phoebe proceeded to empty the entire contents of her closet onto her bedroom floor instead of getting dressed, and topped off the morning by drawing on her (off-white) bedroom carpet with pink sidewalk chalk. She then asked, "Mommy, are you mad at me?" and innocently added, "Why can't I go with you?"

Meanwhile that same morning, Beckett, being momentarily ignored and left to his own devices was happily dumping the dog dishes onto the hardwood floor, splashing in the puddle and eating stray pieces of dog food as quickly as he could before I ran down to pick them up (which I hurried to do right as I was about to Resolve the pink chalk and heard the distinctive clink of the stainless steel bowls that reminded me I hadn't put them up before taking Beckett out of his crib).

All the while, Brett was ranting about how he could not get anything done and "can everyone just be quiet?!"--so that he could grade his papers.

Let the good times roll.