Twins in the kitchen. The door of the freezer is open, Atticus is standing on the floor directing the operation, Jane is standing in a pulled out drawer about halfway up the cabinet.
Atticus: "It's dere, (pointing) wight dere!"
Jane: (stretching on her tip toes) "I can't do it! I can't do it!"
I discovered last night what is my version of hell. To be tied down, completely unable to move and have someone who has brushed their teeth in a while lick my face or breath on my neck. It gives the willies just thinking about it. Kenneth and the kids ganged up on me last night. It was a BAD. IDEA.