Morning Glory

So this happened already today...
Got woken up at 6:15 cause bobcat boy at the lot behind us, thought he would get a head start on smoothing sand that was already quite smooth if you ask me (I got up and looked, okay, not completely true, might have started yelling at him too.. something about contracting a bad rash or nipple chaffing not quite sure it was early.)
Upon waking up, had the dogs woohoo right in my face.  Apparently that was the warmest spot on the bed at the time.
All 3 kids woke up shortly after and proceeded to start initiating havoc.  Megan burst into the room because she desperately needed nail polish because it was team day and she wanted to look "cool".   I proceed to my washroom, only to hear our 5 year old. Caedyn, start screaming about the fact that she is going to wet her pants.  I half wet my pants because I jumped so high off the pot that I lost control.  I rip out of the washroom to inquire about the wetting problem.  My other daughter Megan is sitting on the toilet in the other washroom, and apparently told Caedyn to "go somewhere else because she is doing her team nails."  I ask Megan if that is true, to which she retorts, "You told me to do my nails in the washroom dad so that is what I am doing.  It is your fault if she wets her pants."  After 6 sighs and a rather stern look, Megan apprehensively leaves her toilet perch and allows young Caedyn to releave herself.
I walk downstairs to find my son eating breakfast.  I experience a little shock and awe that he is actually eating breakfast on his own accord and that no issues seem to be apparent.  Stunned.  Normally, breakfast is when we discover that he has some sort of project due that morning usually along the lines of inventing biodegradeable pit stick.  I walk downstairs slightly gleeful when I discover the gong show left by my daughters in the play room.  Not that this is a surprise mind you.  It is the adventure of what I am going to discover as part of the gong show.  Today it was pencil shavings.  I kid you not, there must have been a pencil sharpening convention that I was unaware of.  There were shavings everywhere.  On the floor, in cups, in the oven of the play kitchen, groovy girls were propped up with shavings, and I swear they formed a crop circle on the floor.
After cleaning up that deal.  I plugged in our lovely air cleaning, floor drying, vomit inducing, sewage machines.  Yea.  Our Sewer backed up inside the house last week.  Restoration dudes were coming back this morning to do another clean because apparently our poop is resilient.  Little bit of pride there. 
So we commence packing lunches only to find my daughter has not emptied her lunch kit from the night before (not a surprise here people) and of course we discover infestation. 
Which brings me to our homemade fruit fly trap.  I had checked it last night and counted 11 fruit flies in that puppy.  Not bad for only a couple hours.  This morning I look in it.  4.  All 3 of my children are eating breakfast at this point (well, to be fair, 2 were eating, Megan had just arrived after freaking out with tears and stomping and huffing and head flicks and general disgruntledness about the fact that no one was helping her finish her nails for her team day at school.  That is until Carla gently reminded her team day was Thursday...) so I casually inquire, as to the whereabouts of the other 7 fruitflies.  Caedyn pipes up with, "I had to put my finger in the top to look at it."  This would explain the gigantic hole in the saran wrap on the top of our trap.
The kids finish breakfast.  Megan burns upstairs to finish getting ready (the nail episode put her back at least 15 minutes).  Brady is ready to ride and does not want to wait for Megan.  I tell Brady to let her know he is going in 2 minutes and she needs to be ready.  Brady asks me to start a timer.  Brady gleefully runs upstairs to put Megan on the clock.  Megan arrives with 30 seconds to spare.  Brady starts riding upon first sight of Megan in the garage.  Megan runs inside bawling because Brady left early and hates her and she doesn't know the route to get to school.  Brady arrives back home.  Stomps in and states "all I did was start a bit early and then cry baby runs in the house.  See dad, this is what I have to deal with all the time."  I pretend to ignore any of this is going on by closing my eyes and mumbling softly like I am in a very important prayer time.  They get the hint and leave.  I whip upstairs to have a shower.  Hop in the shower only to find my 5 year old wanting to hop in too.  She does.  Try to wash her hair because she failed to wash anything in her bath from the night before.  I am not allowed to apply shampoo.  I am instructed that she can do it and that she does not like any shampoo on the front of her hair.  Back only.  I retort with the fact that bugs will infest her hair and start laying eggs in there if she does not wash the front.  She is not amused but slightly concerned that this could possibly happ.en.  Therefore she dabs the front of her hair and quickly rinses.  I am then told to get out of my own shower.  I towel off, go to shave... no water.  Seems the restoration dudes are already at my house to clean the carrot poop out of my basement (again) and neglected to warn us they were turning off the water.  Lovely.   I look at the clock.  8:25am.  I am sure this is going to be a wonderful day.