Around 20 minutes after putting the boys to bed this evening, I was ensconced in taking silly quizzes* and seriously considering a shower when my self indulgence was rudely interrupted by many very loud thumps from above. So I hauled my arse up the stairs and opened the bedroom door to find both boys in the middle of the room giggling and looking incredibly guilty. Ben scarpered straight up to his bunk and reluctantly informed me that they were playing "jumping off the bed".
After reading the riot act, I left the room to the strains of the Presidents of the United States of America. Perhaps I shouldn't let the boy choose his own bedtime music...
*Apparently I am Belle (whoever she is), Alice Cullen, going to die in my sleep, 70% Wilmington (wherever that is) and only 17% redneck.**
**I am also becoming way too fond of footnotes
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