Comedians at the Breakfast Table

It's 8:44.

Already this morning, they have jumped on their beds,

jumped on my bed,

tied blankets around their necks and claimed to be Superman (or 'Soccer Man'),

bitten the roses in my boquet for Mother's Day (I thought they were sniffing, but then I heard one say, "Mommy, I bite it." Who bites flowers, anyway??),

emptied my silverware drawer,

chewed on their placemats,

fed Cheerios to the dog,

and splattered milk all over the table and the floor.

It's all spurred on by the fact that they each believe the other to be downright hysterically funny.

I would just really like my cup of coffee. I can tell I'm going to need it today.