This morning, feeling like we should leave the house for SOMETHING and realizing we could go to the autobody shop and get set up for fixing the crunched back corner of the van (it was a bus; it happened while Mr. Right was driving the kids while I was on my way home from CocoaConf; poor Mr. Right, it was quite a hassle!), I set about getting us out the door.
Soon comes the moment when Mr. P is jumping from the mini trampoline to the couch (while wearing a sleeping mask and his pajamas) and Shmoogie is cackling at me from under a stuffed panda hat, no shirt on (I had barely succeeded in peeling it off her) and purple sweatpants bulging with the overnight diaper she was refusing to take off.
Getting out of the house is hard when it's just you against two children, neither of whom want to leave the house!