Let me start this post by saying that I itch.
Since we moved to East Texas, I have a constant itchy rash. That is important information because one day after work, I came home (across the yard) for dinner. Before dinner, I had the bright idea to take some Benadryl. Now, not only am I itchy, I am now drunk on antihistamine. I have a low tolerance for chemistry.
I can't see straight.
I can't walk straight.
I need to go lay down on the couch.
I pass out. Dead to the world. Melissa comes in to check on me while the kids are off playing in one of their bedrooms. All of a sudden, she can't hear them. That is never a good thing unless it is the middle of the night or the middle of the afternoon nap. She goes through the house looking for them and finds them in our master bathroom. Vivian is sitting on the toilet seat with little hairs all around her.
Her big brother had given her a "haircut", except that he used my electric shaver. Not only had he done this, he also put some makeup on her. Not makeup, though, but fingernail polish.
I didn't wake up until the kids were in bed; partly due to the drugs, and partly due to my overwhelming desire not to get in the middle of the h*** that was breaking loose in the rest of the house. Here are a few pictures: