Yesterday, after stepping out of the shower, it sounded awfully quiet.
I walked into the kitchen...
The fridge was open and my husband's jello concoction (which took him 2 days to make... all that boiling water and such...) had been poked and prodded.
There were also half-eaten fig newtons all over the floor
The usual suspects had very red fingers, red blotches on their pjs and cookie crumbs sticking everywhere. If there were any doubt as to the guilty party, there is a perfect, tiny hand print in the jello.
In the end we called it "breakfast" since they were mysteriously lacking in appetite.