Brothers of The Storm Union Meeting is called to order...

Some days I feel The Storm has it out for me. Like, really has it out for me. I feel quite certain they hold council meetings and plot out exactly how to drive me crazy, I just haven't caught them in the act yet. I have a feeling though, their meetings go a little something like this......

Thunder runs around whispering in each of their ears, "Brothers of The Storm Union Meeting in two minutes. Be there. My room." Then, as if to throw me off, he hollers loudly, "Who wants to play Star Wars in MY room??!!" And they all cheer, including Her Highness, who usually asks, "Can Flash Flood come too, Momma? He LOVES to watch us play, and we'll make sure he doesn't eat any leggos. Promise!" I end up toting Flash Flood's exersaucer in there, because he does love to watch the big kids do pretty much anything. After I leave the room, the meeting is called to order:

Thunder: Let's get going. (taps his light saber on his art desk, to denote starting of the meeting) Your Highness, if you will please read the minutes from the last meeting.

Her Highness: Sure! Meeting was opened by our Union President, Mr. Thunder. Motions were made and carried to tear the house apart, since it was a rainy day. Motions were made to sneak outside after rains were done, but first to wait until Mom was busy cleaning bathrooms. Motion carried unanimously. Mission accomplished when freshly cleaned and sparkling bathrooms were destroyed with red clay, once The Storm returned from playing. Plan for Operation Urination, which will truly drive our Mother insane, proposed, but left unfinished. Meeting adjourned abruptly, because Momma came out on the back porch to take a picture of us playing so sweetly, and offered us popsicles.

Thunder: Thank-you. Now, I would like to yield the floor to our delegate from the 4 year old division, General Lightning, who may now finish his proposal for Operation Urination...

Lightning: Thank-you, Mr. President. Before I begin, Hail, could you please throw that basketball up against the wall? We don't want Mother doing another drop-in because it's too quiet.

Hail creates a thud with the ball, everyone laughs hysterically, including Flash Flood.

Lightning: Perfect. Now, let's get down to business. We all are aware today was house-wide sheet changing day. This one is going to take true teamwork and dedication to execute, but, if done right, will really push our Mother over the edge.

Me (from the hallway): Are y'all playing sweet in there? Hey! Make sure Flash Flood doesn't have anything in his mouth please.

Her Highness: Guys, I have an idea where you're going with this. And since I don't typically urinate anywhere other than a toilet, I'm going to have to miss the planning process, but will try to keep Mom distracted. No worries. You have a solid ten minutes to wrap this thing up. Good luck, and may the force be with you.

Her Highness then interrupts my attempt to load the dishwasher, begging for me to change her fingernail polish color. I sigh, loudly, then agree, since the boys are "playing" nicely and won't bother us.

Thunder: We really owe Her Highness. Our next mission will have to be one where she gets all the glory. But back to planning Operation Urination. General Lightning, please continue.

Lightning: As I was saying, we all know today was house-wide sheet changing day. Mother spent much of the afternoon washing and changing the sheets on every single bed in the house. Including hers. Flash Flood, we'll start with you. Your mission is to squirm like crazy when she's changing your diaper for the final time this evening. Do what you do best... giggle, coo, and constantly try to flip over and crawl away while she's changing you. Really give it your all, making sure to turn around and giggle a bunch, she always gets distracted by your smiles and laughs, goodness knows why. Oh, to be a baby again. She'll eventually get worn out trying to pin you down and will latch those velcro straps unevenly, with the diaper on sideways, but won't even notice, or care. Once she's done, crawl away laughing, as fast as you can. She thinks that's hilarious too. Got it?

Flash Flood: Da-da-da. Giggle. Da-da-da. (Translation: Yes, sir. I will not let my band of brothers down. I will make you all proud. I may even try to hold my poop until after she's put me to bed. All for one and one for all!)

Thunder: That's great. Keep going, I hear Her Highness struggling in there to buy more time.

Lightning: Hail, you're up next. Tonight you have to beg for an extra bottle of juice right at bedtime. Say over and over again, "But why dey get some? I'm firsty." And do that toddler jabber crap that she loves. Lay it on her thick with the whole two year old speech impediment thing. She eats that mess up, and can hardly resist. Drink plenty, then lie like a son of a gun when she says to go potty before getting in the bed. Do the whole, "But, but I aweady did, Momma! I po-mise."

Hail: Yes, sir. Just for added affect, perhaps I should drink water straight from the sink the entire time I'm supposed to be brushing my teeth. And, to keep her from questioning if I "went potty" as she always uses such preschool terms, I will do the old game of, "Momma, I not wanna go to bed! Will you 'cratch my bug bites? I'm itchy! I not wanna go to bed! Well, well you not inbited to my birf-day pardy den!" She will be so distracted and mad by the end of that charade, she won't remember if I went (using air quotations) "potty" or not.

Entire group erupts into laughter.
Thunder tosses ball against wall again, followed by more laughter.

Lightning: Great, great. I knew I could count on you. Now, Mr. President, this may be out of your comfort zone. But, we need you to serve as a Black Op. this round. You too will need to drink extra this evening. I know it's been a while for you, but it's necessary for this mission to be a success. Drink as if you've been in a desert for a solid week, and just found the oasis.

Thunder (sighs, then nods): I'm up for the challenge, General.

Lightning: Perfect. I'm participating as well. Tonight, I will cry and stomp my feet when Mother tries to put a pull-up on me. I will whine and sing the same old song, "But, I'm four! I wanna be a big boy! It's not fair that Thunder and Her Highness don't have to wear pull-ups! Please! Please, let me be a big boy!" She will feel sorry for me, and think she's tricking me by allowing me to fall asleep, before she tries to slip me into a pull-up. But, since we're pulling out all the stops, she will surely be exhausted by that point and forget to change me out of my underwear. Now, this is when the plan gets a little tricky. Timing is everything.

Hail throws a matchbox car against the wall, The Storm fakes an argument, then a quick make-up session, followed by more fake laughter.

Lightning: Here is the time schedule break down: Approximately midnight-- I will wake her up with soaked pajamas. She will change me into dry clothes, and allow me to sleep in her bed. I will start kicking Father immediately. 1:00-- Enter Hail, with soggy diaper and damp shirt. She will change you, and put you in the middle of the bed as well. In the process, I will wake up and beg for a drink, crying loudly and waking Father at this point. Father will move in zombie like motion, fill sippy cup with juice, then move to the couch, since the bed is now full. We all get back to sleep. 2:14-- Cue Flash Flood. Poop, then pee, so it will be really runny and leaking all over those clean sheets. Wake Mother with a blood curdling scream. Mother will have to change you and the sheets, plus make a bottle. So, Mr. President, you should allow plenty of time for her to get back into an REM sleep. I would say, approximately 3:30, wake Mother with news of a wet bed. Inform her that you don't really need any help, that you've already changed your own clothes and will be heading to the couch with Father, but you just wanted her to be in the know. 4:18-- I will soak through the pull-up she put on me earlier in the night, but not until I've nearly rolled on top of her, so that she wakes up feeling a hot liquid sensation all along her right side. Once the scent hits her nose, she will immediately realize what it is, and have to wake up to change me yet again. She will be so tired at this point, she'll probably just grab a towel and throw it down to lay on, instead of changing the sheets. 5:37-- Hail, you wake up wet, again. After changing you, and grabbing another towel, then realizing there's no more dry area to sleep on, she'll move to the little couch.

Thunder: Gen. Lightning, yet again you've made us proud. This is a fool-proof plan. By morning, Mother will have to snooze an extra 47 minutes. During which time, while she is comatose, we will have the opportunity to start on our next mission: Operation Healthy Cereal Destruction, where we will pour out all cereals with less than 10 grams of sugar per serving, and stomp on them. This will leave only pop-tarts and Doritos for breakfast.

Her Highness (speaking loudly for all to hear): Ummm, wait! Momma! I changed my mind about the purple! I want pink now! Please!

Thunder: We must adjourn. Quickly, all hands in. Teamwork on three, ready... ONE-TWO-THREE!

All members of The Storm: TEAMWORK!

High-fives all the way around, as I open Thunder's door.

Me: Did I just hear Flash Flood say "teamwork?" And hey, did he just give you a high-five?? (Speaking in a baby voice) Do it again, Buddy! Can you give Mommy a high-five?? You're so cute! Yes you are!

Hail: Yep. We's been teachin' hims dat. Hims knows how to do dat high-five now.
(winking at the rest of The Storm)

I take Flash Flood out of his exersaucer and move him to the living room.

Thunder whispers: See you all on the flip side. We'll meet at the swingset in the morning to discuss our plans for the afternoon. (then, screaming, to throw me off) NOW, GET OUTTA MY ROOM! I SAID RIGHT NOW!!!!

Lightning: Then you can't come into MY ROOM EITHER!!!

Slams door.