Naps are my friends.

And, sometimes, my enemies.

I went upstairs to take one with the twin Fries because I was afraid I'd jab myself with my embroidery needle if I didn't.  (I'm trying to catch up on cross-stitch work, but I'm still woefully behind.)

At 2:40, I had kicked all of the unfriendly things out of their room, while allowing all the friendly things to stay (as long as they were quiet).

At 3:30, an impishly grinning Small Fry woke me up as she stage-tip-toed into my bedroom.  I know I'm up when I'm not supposed to be was written all over her face.  It was, coincidentally, just about the time the 59-minute sleep on the clock radio in their room would've turned off.

I sent her back to bed.

About five minutes later, I heard crocodile tears.  Which I ignored.

A little after 4, Large Fry came home from school.  She came in and woke me up to get a hug before she went to go nap for a bit.  That I didn't mind.  Any time I can get a hug, it's a good thing.

I had just gotten back to sleep when I heard more stage-tip-toe-ing into my room.

This time it was both twin Fries.

I sent them both back to bed.

I think Large Fry came in again about 4:30, but I'm a little fuzzy on that.  I know, if she did, I sent her back to bed.

Then one of the twins complained that she had to go poopy.  "So go poopy!" I said.

At 5, after repeated shouts from Uncle D to get back in bed, I'd had enough.  Nobody was going to sleep any more, so I herded the twin Fries downstairs.

Uncle D expressed his displeasure at their bad behavior.

Medium Fry suggested that they needed a time out for not listening to me.

He agreed.

And now they get a stern talking-to from me.