Can't I get a break?

After a long night in which my co-worker got sick (literally) minutes after I got to work and had to call the on-call person who then had to scramble to find someone to come in at 11:30 pm who would then work till 7 am, I came home to hell.

I know, whoa Clarissa! Why such strong language? This is why:

Upon arriving at my house this morning, I am greeted by Tyson screaming gibberish at me. Tucker is no where. Stuart is grasping at things under the kitchen sink. My couch is naked. And the dogs are hiding.

Clue #1-something is not right.

Apparently Tucker woke up early again and decided to have some fun at our home's expense. I'm not sure of the order of events but it went something like this:

• Tucker dumped out the contents of Stuart's backpack
• He then found the Sharpie and proceeded to take notes in one of Stuart's textbooks
• He fanned out all 100 note cards and possibly took notes on them as well
• He decided to turn his body into artwork and decorated his arms, face and feet
• Giving up the Sharpie, he decided to look for a good DVD
• And dumped the entire drawer of DVDs on the floor (amazingly only cracking one)
• Not able to choose a suitable cinematic score, he decided to investigate the kitchen
• And found some oil/grease spray
• He then lubed up the couch/ottoman/floor/and scattered DVDs

At this time Tyson wakes up and finds the colossal mess that Tucker has made and runs into our bedroom to wake up Stuart. Stuart comes out and is completely dumbfounded by the ruins that is now our living room. He claims he never heard Tucker. Right. (And might I just add that I always hear things. Like ALWAYS. I'm just saying.)
And now?

Now I am home alone since my handsome husband had to go to school; left picking up the pieces of my shattered house while functioning on no sleep.

The good news?

The boys got their Halloween costumes in the mail and are currently running around screaming "RROOAARR" and "ARRR." Can you guess what they are?