Happy New Year

We're in the home stretch here at Casa Vomito.  Mitch just cleaned up dog barf, but so far, no one else has done the deed.  I don't remain optimistic, however, since we had our traditional build-your-own sundaes for dinner and the kids are planning on opening the cans of Whoopass they got for Christmas in order to stay awake until midnight.  I've got Ziplocs stashed all over the house.

This is what usually happens at our house on New Year's Eve.  The kids start dropping off around 9:30 or 10 and I fall asleep around 10:15.  Then, at midnight, when the neighborhood starts making a bunch of noise with fireworks and whatnot, I wake up, open the window, and yell for them to "QUIT MAKING SO MUCH RACKET, PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP!"  I'm exceptionally awesome like that.  I even  used to yell at the owls that woke me up on the island.  I'm worried, though.  The kids are determined to stay awake until midnight and let off the poppers and noise makers I bought them in a moment of insanity at Target, and I can't show them the east coast feed of the ball dropping on cable because we are actually on the east coast now. Plus, they've gotten savvy to my evil parenting tricks. 

I still have all my Christmas decorations up.  I am planning on carefully wrapping all the ornaments and decorations in anticipation of an overseas move, so I thought I'd wait until the kids go back to school, because I really, really, don't like to have help.  Which totally reminds me of my favorite joke:

Me:  Knock knock!

You:   Who's There?

Me:   Control freak.  Now, you say, control freak who?




Edited to add:  This is the picture Grace drew of herself while trying to stay awake: