When my brother asked me to watch his kids for the weekend, I told him my only guarantee was that they would be alive when he came back. All kidding aside, they are having fun and being well behaved. Trust me they are not angelic, but they do listen to their Aunty Jenny. My brother told me that I can do what ever I want. Run them through the mud. Take them to another island. Put them to bed at any time ("it doesn't even have to be dark yet.") The only thing I am really tempted to do is dress them all in white when my brother comes back to pick them up and get them to say to him over and over, "We are ready for the mothership."