It always seems like a good idea, when the opportunity arises, to take my kids on trips with me. This week, in particular, it seemed like a fantastic idea: take the kids and the long-suffering husband to Universal Orlando to hang out with some other social media families and drink Butterbeer and shriek accio twitter followers! at each other. That is, it seemed like a fantastic idea, until my children embarked on a days-long rampage of decibel-breaking, honey-badger-worthy, fit-pitching terror, during which it has seemed that their sole reason for living has been to test the limits of my emotional and psychological endurance.
Those limits were breached some days ago. I’ve given up. I’m just dragging them to Florida to set them loose among the alligators.
No, not really. That would be cruel to the alligators.