I'm scared. There, I said it and I'm not ashamed. For the first time ever, both adults at Castilo Urf! are sick and the kids are not. Big Mama and I are in a bad way and I'm afraid that The Quartet will seize on this advantage, pack together, and take us down like gimpy wildebeest on the Serengeti, leaving our bloodied carcasses strewn about in front of the television and, of course, under the couch.
The other thing that concerns me is that the dishwasher broke last night (of course it did!) so The Quartet has no clean dishes to eat our meat off of. And as certain as I am that they will work together to bring us down, I am equally as certain that they will never come together to hand wash dishes. The very idea of washing a dish in the sink would be more foreign to them than the idea of eating their own parents.
I suppose I need to go home tonight and, in my feverish state, try to repair that appliance. You people all know how much I love to repair things around the house two or three times. I just hope I can concentrate on the drain pump when I know four hungry children are just behind me, pacing, waiting, and licking their chops.