Broken Record

Most days I feel like a broken record.

Pick up your shoes. Stop screaming. Eat your vegetables. Clean your room. Stop hitting your brother. No you can not drink my wine. Put your bike away.

That kind of broken record.

So. After coming home from running errands with the two little (demons) Schueys, only to find a bike in the driveway, the back door to the house left open, dirty dishes, (teenager) clothes left all over the house, and an ipod on the counter- I flipped. My broken record came to a screeching halt. I was done.

I took all of Kane's shit and hid everything in the neighbor's garage. Clothes, ipod, and his bike.

Proud of my clever idea, I put the little kids to bed and fell asleep surfing Pinterest.

The next day, Kane asked Garth where his bike was. In on my trick, Garth tried not to smile and told Kane he didn't know where his bike was. Confused, Kane started to retrace his steps, when Lucy(ifer) quickly yelled, in a creepy sing song voice...

"I know where your bike is!!!!! Mom put it in Chris' garage!!!! She said she was tired of you not picking up your shit!!!"

Thanks Lucy(ifer).