We got up early to avoid the pest control man. Not only because he sprays toxic chemicals, but mostly because he talks way too much. He gets all riled up when he talks, and he swears, and he forgets to spray the bugs. I've learned it's best if we're not here when he is. I offered the kids 3 choices:
1) Stay asleep in your loft beds, and he'll never know you're up there. Meanwhile, I'll park the van in the neighbors' driveway and watch for him to leave. Noah rejected this one, because he was afraid of moaning in his sleep and giving himself away.
2) Get up early and stake out the house with me from the aforementioned van. Noah rejected that, because he thinks it's creepy and also because the bug guy is never on time, so we could be trapped in the neighbors' driveway all morning. Sarah was excited about this option until she realized there were no steaks involved in a stakeout.
3) Go to Cracker Barrel for breakfast. Everybody liked this option.
The server came by to say something, and at that moment Noah was stabbing his sausage. It squirted her and made her stutter. This was after I somehow dropped egg on Noah's foot. Sarah picked up her French toast, dripping with syrup, and ate it with no silverware. I hope nobody witnessed our fiasco.
We were a scene even before the food arrived. Noah played the game on the table where you take out one peg at a time and try to leave as few as possible. He left only one, and I proclaimed him a genius. Sarah, a genius in her own right, rearranged the pegs so they color-coordinated. Then they challenged me to play it. I know I'm no good at that game, so I begged off by reason of germophobia ("Do you know how many people have touched those pegs?"). Sarah finally played and left only one peg. Noah accused her of cheating, and she stood up and yelled at him. He was embarrassed and immediately bent over backwards to placate her.
The goal was accomplished, because the bug guy was gone when we got home, and so were the bugs.