The poor bunny is flushed and whimpering.
Praise the stars for paracetomol to ease his discomfort.
So far, the weekend has brought lots of conflict with Son#1 and Son#2 who keep beating the living crap out of each other and defying all rules and instructions at every turn.
The husband is sick and tired, and frankly, so am I.
Especially Son#2, a.k.a. Son of Satan, is testing patience left, right and center.
Wish we could have a night out to recharge marital batteries and not hear No!! at every turn.
Will endeavour to find a good, competent babysitter this week.
If Son#3 is up to it, we'll try to go to a museum this morning, as being out and about in public is better for the kids as:
a) we can't jump down their throats all the time, and
b) being cooped up together for an entire weekend is like a Social Experiment Gone Wrong.
Yawn.
Sigh.
Exasperation.
.
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