Thanks to last night's adventures, Morgan is now officially worth one penny. Because that's what's in her tummy. But let me back up. . .
I gave the kids their toothbrushes, then headed downstairs to let the crazy dancing dog out to pee. When I got back inside, the kids were downstairs, and Morgan was complaining that Max put her penny in his mouth. I told him to spit it out, and that we only put food in our mouths. We went upstairs to find Chad cleaning up a giant water mess that Max had created in the bathroom (in about 20 seconds of unsupervised time). I finished cleaning it, while listening to Morgan whining in her room. Suddenly, her whining changed to panic, and she came into the bathroom. I said, "What. . . did you put that in your mouth? Did you swallow it?". She was crying, and looked so ashamed. I kicked the wet towels out of the way, sat her on the toilet, and asked where the penny was. She pointed to her stomach. At least it wasn't caught in her throat. I moved everyone into the living room. Morgan played with her Leapster while I researched pennies (she will poop it out, and she is not happy about it); then I wrestled Max into jammies. I got him safely into bed, and then did story time with Morgan. Once her bedroom door was closed, I plopped onto the couch with a Mike's Hard Cranberry Lemonade, and episode 5 of The Walking Dead, and called it a day.
That was the most hectic 30 minutes of my life.