Kids, they run around until they can hardly stand up, screeching and yowling depending on what kind of kids you have, banging into stuff, screeching some more because they got hurt, fighting with each other, running to tell that what’s his ears did this to me, screeching because you won’t beat him for it, leaving their toys everywhere, wanting something to eat, screeching because they don’t like what you give them, and generally depleting their parents patience and stiffening their resolve never to have kids again. Ever.

It ‘s burnout time. They’ve had it and you’ve had it. It’s time for that dreaded mid-afternoon nap. There’s more screeching and yowling because they’re not tired and don’t want a nap. But you know they do, just like you need that glass of wine to help you make it through another day with having four kids under the age of three. Yet there’s always that one hold out that has an ounce more stamina than the others that insists he doesn’t need a nap, but you hold firm and soon he’s nodding out like the others. Bliss at last. Maybe they’re not so bad after all.