King of Changovia

My husband thinks he's the king. He refers to our house as Changovia (his nickname is Chango) and I am his queen. The three older boys are the Jesters and the Prince of Changovia is two. The kingdom was quiet and somewhat serene, as much as it could be with so many jesters and their cohorts trampling through the castle, when the universe came along and said,
 "Fuck it, you're IT!"
Several things are happening at a rapid pace - the prince is starting to realize his evil toddler power with the word "MINE!" It he can reach it, grab it, eat it or break it, it's his!!!!
MWUAHAHAHAA....
The head jester, Type A is worried about graduating 8th grade - "OMG Mom, I have all A's and one D!!! Will they let me graduate?"
I roll my royal eyes. "Don't sweat it. You're fine."
My dainty 8 year old jester is just concerned about what outfit he will wear for the day and who gives a damn about division? "Does this make me look fat?"
"No, it's fine." His day-glow yellow shoes make me cringe, but he loves them.
Pottymouth is a hot royal mess right now. The universe went and started puberty (wtf! I wasn't ready!), therefore the King and Queen of Changovia are having to do the royal smack down more often than usual. Then this ugly, ugly little wart of problem popped up.
My ex-husband.
If I had a dragon, I'd totally sick it on this moron. The bottom line is he's not involved. Occassionally during his criminal enterprises he remembers he has kids and calls them. There are several layers of suckitude about the situation and for the most part, Pottymouth is the one affected the most emotionally by it all. We nurse him through his down times and let him know we love him. Puberty is not helping - but we are all sucking it up and dealing.
The King of Changovia and I decided to deal with the situation the best we know how and are moving forward in that direction for the best interests of the kids. I am astounded and grateful the King of Changovia just accepts the Jesters as his own and has no qualms about hugging them and telling them, "Hell no you can't have Rock Star at 9pm! It's a school night."

I woke up at 5 this morning after a particularly odd dream in which a friend and I went to a flea market and I made him buy me a red coin purse. It had a silver coin with Robert Kennedy on it hidden in the lining. Then we realized we were on break from work, we were really late and his three year old was driving us back.
I have no idea what the hell that means.
However, I did notice everyone was out cold at that hour and I had the house to myself!
Off to my desk with ample supply of coffee and music, I continued my foray into fucking up nursery rhymes. I am currently on the search to do one that will take two to five pages, but I haven't found any that have really have taken a stab at my twisted soul. I've begun work on two other pieces which I hope everyone will find fun and amusingly creepy....should you see a nursery rhyme or myth or have a fun little antedote in which there is some dismembering or maiming, please feel free to write me....