I've just had a vile evening with four little darlings belonging to a friend. They've been bullying the baby, slamming doors, turning all the bathroom taps on, galloping round the house, scaling the stairs (wrong side of banisters), kicking, screaming, hitting (me) and called me an interesting variety of filthy names considering their age (all between 3 and 6).
I was tried to stay kind but firm, carried up and threw the big one back into his room at least six times, replaced mattresses and all bedding on three out of four beds at least 4 times, selectively ignored a great deal of monkey business, left them to kill each other as much as possible and frightened the older two with a roar like Godzilla on their last attempt to get downstairs (10ish). They were finally all asleep at 11pm and I got home about 1am.
I felt rotten telling their parents how naughty they'd been, should I have lied?
Maybe I should have just ignored their parents instructions and played fun and games with them from the minute Mum and Dad left the house?
What on earth do other people do? I feel like a horrible old cow. Any comforting tales?