sirens

There is a reason it is called the witching hour. Though tonight it was more like the bewitching hour.
I left the kids downstairs doing a few chores while I ran upstairs to bathe #4. While I was washing away the remains of the day from his little body, I hear a siren.
Whoooooooooo OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Whoooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Then I realize it is not an ambulance, nor is it a sea nymph luring me to the coast, it is a child. Someone who is tired and cranky and hungry and whose oldest sister has just gotten the best of him.