My Morning - Boy Smell & the Coffee Crisis

Rolled out of bed, scurried to the kitchen, briefly gagged at the boy funkitude emitting from my oldest son's room - only to discover that there was no coffee made!
Does my Beefsteak have a death wish? I wonder, then feel guilty because my poor hubby has to go in early. Searched the cabinets - woohoo! Instant espresso!
Properly caffeinated, I get ready - vaguely wondering of those are old chick spots on my hands and maybe I need to get my eyes checked. I sprint through the house plaguing my children with the light switch and a "Get up! Brush Your Teeth!"
Grumbling, smelly beings crawl from their rooms and beat each other senseless over who get the bathroom first. Type A, Pottymouth and Dramaqueen argue about toothbrush usage and who the hell hid the toilet paper?!?  I walk blissfully by because I have to go wake the Baby Beefy. He is a cute little fart and a total cock blocker. This is what happens when you let the baby sleep with you. He used to smell like baby, now he's starting to smell like the rest of those midgets who live with me. As I convince him he needs to get up, I then remember the name of the baby mama from a conversation from three days ago at work. Bridgett Monahan!
I load the monsters in the van and proceed to drop everyone off - three separate stops! Of course Type A is
laughing at Pottymouth (whose mouth is off and running with colorful language! Fucking A!) and Dramaqueen is busy dancing like a mad person in the back seat to that hooker nut job, Britney Spears. Beefy screams as his BBq chip hook-up, Pottymouth has exited the car and left him high and dry.
Baby Beefy being last - I get flipped off by a school bus driver. Yeah, you want me to run over those kids in the cross walk? Who pissed in your cheerios this morning? If you don't like the big bus, get the small one, jerk face.
I race to work while trying to talk to my hubby and then race to the time clock. Only to discover this little fucker needs to be warmed up to clock in. No joke. It doesn't like our Tea Fairy's time card at all. I told the maintenance guy to knit it a sweater so we could clock in on time. After only three tries today, it spits my card out like 90 year old cigarette smoker.
Whew...