Two too much

I am so completely frustrated with my 12 boys.

What?! I only have two? No. Way.

Well, if that's the case, the next three months are going to be rough because on their first day of summer, home together, they have:

Used a coin to unlock a sister's room and ransacked it.

Used a pen to draw on a door.

While walking through a store they turned a mannequin completely around and moved a clothes rounder to another part of the store.

Squirted our neighbors with a water hose.

Used my cell phone to take pictures of their, ahem, parts.

Used the same phone to videotape their burping competition.

Threw a wet Pull-Up at each other until it exploded (I mean, into a zillion little tinkle-filled particles) all over the playroom.

Stood on TOP of my headboard, held onto a picture on my wall and flew down like Superman.

Bounced balls off of their baby sister's head and spun her around until she walked into a wall.

There's more that I can't even say out loud, much less type for the world to see.

They have fought, screamed, chased, hit, pinched, and tattled.

Oh, have they tattled.

They've even tattled about being tattled on.

I am frustrated.

Are you sure there's only two of them?