Thing 1: "Mama, the dream is over."
Me: "What? What do you mean the dream is over?"
Thing 1: (mumbled) "The dream is SO over."
And the fact that Thing 2 wants milk with ice in it. I think I may have given him just-made lukewarm powdered milk one too many times. "No, Mama. I want COLD milk. I want COLD, FRESH milk." (He's two, p.s.)
Or the Wee One, who is army crawling and finally pulling up on things... and getting stuck there... with no way to get down. And the fact that when she laughs it's like a sheep "baaaaa-h"-ing. Or a machine gun. Take your pick.
This pretty much sums up my life.