Now You're Being a Little Over Dramatic

Sundays are the days I feel like we have to have it together the most.....and it's usually the day that we're in a million pieces......

Me:  Get up.
#2:  I'm tired.
#3:  The covers are warm.
#1:  Uh?  Oh, I'm up.
....few minutes later....
Me:  Make sure you get something to eat.
#1:  Okay.....what do we have?
#2:  I'll just put it in a bag and eat it in the car.
#3:  I don't want breakfast....I want lunch.
Me:  It's 6am.  Seriously kid.....get something for breakfast.
#3:  There are no more granola bars.
Me:  Then obviously you won't be eating one for breakfast.
#3:  But that's what I wanted.
Me:  We don't have any.  Find something else.
#2:  I found a new box.
#3:  I've decided I don't want a granola bar anymore.
...few minutes later....
#2:  Can I wear shorts?
Me:  No.
#2:  But I love to wear shorts.
Me:  It's too cold.
#2:  But I'll wear some of Daddy's socks and then the only thing that will show is a small part of my knee.
Me:  No.  The end.  Find long pants and a long sleeve shirt.
#2:  You don't like me.
Me:  You're right.  I'm just trying to protect you from the cold so you don't get deathly sick and die of pneumonia...what was I thinking?!??!!?
#2:  You're thinking that you're trying to run my life.  I'm eight years old....I can wear what I want.
Me:  YOU SIR....are eight years old and I WILL tell you what to wear and you WILL wear what I tell you to wear...and if that's ruining your life, so be it.
....a few minutes later....
#3:  I can't find my pants.
Me:  #1, can you help #3 find his pants so I can finish getting ready please?!?!?!?!
#1:  UGH!  I ALWAYS have to help him find his pants.
Me:  Yes, I do remember having to ask you to help him for the last seven years of his life to help him find his pants.  I do remember that every single day I ask you to help him with his clothes.  What was I thinking?!?!?!??  I can't believe I wanted you to help out!??!?!?!?
#1:  Now you're being a little over dramatic.
....a few minutes later.....
#3:  He hit me.
#2:  I did not.....I threw a ball at you.
#1:  And the air touched me so he must have hit me too.
Me:  Put the ball down.  Everybody get socks and shoes on....NOW!  If I hear one more argument, you're going to separate rooms.
#s:  NOT SEPARATE ROOMS!!!!!!
....a few minutes later Hubby walks in from getting the bulletins from the BG church building.....
Hubby:  Hey!  How is everybody?!?!??!
#s:  We're great and ready to go!
.....and then it took me another ten minutes to finish getting ready and then we jump in the car and put on our smiling faces.  It's not like this every Sunday....who am I kidding....it's like this a few times a week....but I wouldn't trade it for the world in our life by numbers!