This morning A got up to find the cat stuck in the dining room with the doors closed. We dashed out to work, leaving teenagers in bed. We weren't too happy when we came home to find the b* cat had deposited something nasty on the dining room floor. Husband grumpily cleared it up, and I snapped at him to eat something, and stalked off.
I informed teenagers that if things didn't get sorted out, the right doors locked or left open, then they were going to have to be in their bedrooms before we go to bed. Consequently son sulked all the way through his supper.
Bah! Families! Who'd have 'em?
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