Yesterday I went with two girlfriends to see J. Edgar. It's a wonderful movie and the acting is terrific. I knew very little about the man so it was interesting on top of entertaining. I was gone for 6 hours while our fabulous sitter had all 3 kids at home and Chris was at work. I came home to a report of NO FIGHTING. Isn't that amazing? I declared it to be McDonald's Ice Cream Night after we ate dinner because of the good choices they made while I was gone. Then, not 10 minutes later, William called Drew a butthole. He lost his opportunity to get an ice cream. He hooted and hollered like he does and it was ugly. Like U-G-L-Y ugly. About 40 minutes later we piled into the car to go get the girls their ice cream and he dealt with it like a man. I was proud of him. Guess his fit earlier had exhausted all his rage about it. On the way home, as he sat empty-handed, I said, "Are you ever going to use that word again?" He said, "Not if it means no ice cream."
Alrighty, then. Mission accomplished.