The Art of the Stall

So getting the kids to bed started well over an hour ago and I think they might be asleep. Think being the operative word because there is no way I am going back up there again. The night time ritual started out easily enough. Kisses to S and she was off to bed with Dad to read her a few books. Then came A, G, and C. "Mommy kiss me", "Mom why do dogs toot?", "Why is there a crack in the light?", "What are we doing tomorrow?", "When is my birthday?", "When I was a baby I cried, right?", "Where do the flies go when it gets dark?", and I could go on and on and on about the one million random questions being shot off rapid fire by the three little stallers with mouths that just will not close! Getting them to bed seems to have taken a downhill turn as of late. It's like they save up every random question they have ever had for bedtime and simultaneously they start shouting them out to me. Did I mention they all speak at the same time? So as I sit here writing I can hear them mumbling on the monitor. Yes we still have a monitor for those late night pee pee calls and the ability to monitor their conversations. Yes I know they will probably need therapy some day for all the spying there momma does, but for now I am sticking with they outnumber me and I need all the intel I can get. So as I am about to end this post I hear "Be quiet when you open the door". Guess I am heading back upstairs after all and rethinking the fact that they all still share a bedroom. It's beginning to look like they have perfected the art of the stall!