Today started out normal. Woke up with kids running a muck. Hubby still sleeping in. (He works nights.) Kitchen destroyed from little hands trying to "make" something before mom wakes up. T.V. cranked up loud Sponge bob just blaring. I slowly walk over praying for at least one cup of coffee ready. Nope. *scoff* But it's Sunday. Sundays are always easy going for us. Not much has to be done. So I leisurely make the breakfast, serve it up and head off to play with my blog. Not 30 minutes after I hear a child wailing, just screaming like he's on his last leg. I run to the front yard expecting to see bones sticking out from somewhere or blood or really anything to justify that scream. I get there and what do I see.. My 8 year old (thats right not my baby or even the toddler) crying, screaming but no broken anything, no blood no where. Crying so loud I had no idea what was going on. All I know is people from miles around could hear this scream. Then from around the corner comes my 9 year old crying, screaming yelling.(Thats right still not the little ones.) I finally calm one down long enough to explain whats going on. "He broke my fort!" "Ok uh huh and ..." I say calmly. "And? And he broke it!!!" "You broke mine first!" "Nah ah!" I was so poed. I live out in the sticks and voices carry. So I calmly brought my two screaming boys inside the house. Shut the door. Turned around and said.. "Are you kidding me! All this over a fort!! Get a handle on yourselves! In your rooms now! You don't solve things by screaming your heads off!" Away they went down the hall to their rooms and as I turned to walk away I hear "Your screaming your head off." Quietly out of the 8 year old. Ugh!