The day I had

There were 14 unflaggingly energetic kindergartners in the morning, followed by three siblings who just couldn't stop quarreling in the afternoon.

In between there was a medical appointment, a play date at the pool and dinner to cook for a potluck.

My own energy was no match for the expectations of the day. By 5 p.m. I was pooped.

At 5:30 I had a breath of a moment to take a shower before rounding up my three and shuttling them to Bible study. I lumbered up the stairs with a vial of lavender oil in one hand, a candle and matches in the other -- an arsenal aimed at relieving a day's worth of stress in just 15 minutes.

As I reached the top step, a child, whose identity I'm protecting here, sprinted past me wearing nothing but two beaded necklaces as some sort of makeshift bandoleer, gleefully chanting: "Butt and fart and butt and fart and ..."

A smaller sibling trailed in perfect mimicry.

I sighed and started to muster a corrective tone, but settled on this mantra instead:

They are happy. They aren't fighting. I only have 15 minutes.

I entered the bathroom and closed the door.