Can't shake the extremely irritables from my system at the minute and am finding my wee cuties extraordinarily annoying. Why oh why did I allow my sister to ply me with alcohol yesternight? Result? Today I'm a bitchy old ratbag with no tolerance whatsoever for children's whims. Not that they've noticed, of course. Why do kids never grasp the concept of bad moods in adults? The more you growl the more they wanna know, it seems. Pass the Alka Seltzer someone.