Barbarians at the Gate

I don't know what has gotten into my kids lately. I shouldn't say lately because that implies they have been behaving unusually. Upon reflection I realize this is how they ARE. Yesterday they were in search and destroy mode. First, Cyprian decided to do his phonics lesson on the couch. Literally, ON the couch. I am glad it was pencil and that I Scotch Guarded it. But still very dis-heartening. This was only one of the cushions. He hit all three. With large swirling motions. I didn't even ask what they were supposed to be. And didn't care.
After dinner, Kateri came down to report Cyprian had gotten into Audrey's room. Which is code for she instigated the carnage and is trying to use him as a scape goat. It didn't work. It looked like her horses went on a wild rampage. And this picture was after we'd been cleaning up for an hour.
Hoping the destruction had reached its apex, I was sorely disappointed when Kateri came down, once again to report Pippin was into my bathroom. Usually, he goes for the liquid foundation, which is so hard to clean off I decided never to put in on my face. But this time he branched out and found some nail polish, which I have absolutely no business owning in the first place. And now I have streaks of it on the white door and on the fronts of bathroom cupboards. Of course, no nail polish remover, which will only take off the paint and finish too if its strong enough to get teh polish off. I tried some other cleaners but so far no luck. Maybe if I get the non-acetone remover.
But they did not have any at the store when I stopped, after a run to Home Depot to get Audrey a new door handle.

She used to have one with a lock but it was kind you can open with a screw driver or penny or any thing else so it did no keep the little ones out. And it the tug-o-wars that went on trying to keep them out, or them breaking in, it eventually broke and would not even close. Which made it that much easier for the most recent trashing. I put the new one on right away and felt very safe knowing they could not get in. And I remembered to lock my bedroom door too. At least that narrows the "playing" field down a bit.

And here is Pippin ,who was crying, I kid you not, because he didn't have a gun.