Maybe it was something they ate. . .

It got very quiet down the hall one day last week, and naturally, I ran to find out what was going on, heart pounding.  When I reached Wyatt's bedroom/place-I-store-things-that-don't-have-a-home, this is what I found:

I was even more terrified when I saw what they were actually doing.
"What's wrong kids?  Are you ok???  Did you eat uncooked rice again?"
Answer: "Shhh!  We're pretending it's rest time.  Can you turn on some music, Mom?  Mom?  What's wrong with you?"


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