A little help, please

Christmas at Mumsie's house

Christmas at Mumsie's house and Jack with Tequilla (the dog)

I need another set of hands, eyes or both.  During the day I am outnumbered, and they are winning.  I don't often cook, and when I do it taste like crap.  Well I decided to give it a go since my New Year's Resolution is to attempt to cook.  (I use the term "cook" very loosely since it involved me opening a can of peas and warming a box of potatoes in the microwave.  That counts as far as I'm concerned.)  

As the four o'clock hour neared, I scanned the house.  Oreos, fruit loops and powder doughnuts (hey, I didn't say a damn thing about nutrition) are crumbled and mashed in my rugs.  Every DVD we own has been licked and frisbee'd across the room.  Buzz, Woody and Lightning McQueen are trapped underneath the rubble of the Jack-a-nado that left the bodies of Little People scattered about, some of them still trapped in cars.  Then there are the children.  Cameron has nothing on except his underwear and his boots.  Jack has more oreos on his face than in his stomach.  Brian arrives in one hour.  Hmmm...I better get started on the food.  I made no such cleaning resolution.

I find the pots, wipe the dust off, and throw a piece of meat in there.  So far so good.  Then the deafening sound of my red and green polka dot chip and dip servewear shattering into a million pieces overshadows the sizzle of the ground chuck in the pot.  After gently relocating Jack into the living room, I vacuum up the pieces.  Was the thing supposed to disintegrate after the New Year?  There were so many pieces.  

In walks the oldest whose speech is not always understood.  "Mama, it pop."  Huh?  One glance.  Oh hell.  He is holding an opened tube of toothpaste that he managed to take the cap off and squirt the contents all over himself.  Walking into the living room, his brother is also painted blue with toothpaste as well as my red area rug.  I remembered to turn the stove off before taking my blue man group into the tub.