Mommy on the couch with peacefully nursing, two-week-old Thomas. Anthony is at her feet playing with blocks. The domestic perfection is palpable. Oh, but wait. Rosie is missing and mommy is hearing a plinking sound coming from the kitchen, which she can not see from her chosen nursing chair.
"Anthony, where is Rosie?"
Anthony responds lightly, "Oh. She's on the counter, with the medicine."
Sure enough, Rosie, the height of all B.T.ness (Big Trouble) is a. standing on the counter, b. pouring out a bottle of pre-natal vitamins c. is standing in close proximity to a very large, serrated knife, and d. has turned the toaster-oven on to broil. To sum up, here we have height, drugs, weapons and fire, all in one neat little package. But don't worry, things here are under control. I can handle three kids, I can...I can.
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