Giggling gave way to pounding feet and shouting.
Then the aerosol shhhhhhhhht!
Team Testosterone and the house were coated in silly string by 7:15 this morning and Mr. G ate his breakfast with a grin on his face. "I never imagined this morning would turn out like this, Mom." Upstairs is a war zone and I sent them off to school in a merry mood.
Their only disappointment was waking up to silly string but finding their father had already left the house. Ever resourceful, they got some charcoal briquettes from the garage and dropped them in his stocking as "a warning from Santa to stop being bad."
Off to find the vacuum now...