It's hard to pretend you're sleeping when you hear your kitchen being demolished, not by construction workers putting in new cabinets, but by your kids making you "breakfast in bed". If your children haven't done this for you yet, I suggest you make sure your homeowners policy is up to date and to have a fire extinguisher at the ready.
I awoke to the banging of pots and heads, a smell wafted up that I could not place - had a skunk with gas wandered in and died? Were the neighbors re-tarring their roof with rotten eggs? Had a Meth Lab exploded down the street? I walked down the stairs and heard my oldest son admonish his little brother "You idiot, don't put bacon in the toaster - use this fork and get it out!" "You don't know what you're doing either - you let the spoon melt all over the omelet," my youngest fires back. He had a point. I tiptoed back upstairs and waited for them to finish cooking, hoping they wouldn't lose a limb in the process. A few minutes after they decided that "It smelled like poop" and needed Mom's perfume they trod upstairs with the most expensive and yet inedible breakfast I've ever seen.