About A Fly

After a long day of activities at Moody, a rainy boat ride, and finally some beach time, it was time to put one very cranky two-year old to bed. While undertaking this impossible task, I was interrupted by several knocks on the door by two girls that knew better.
On one of Alli's trips to the door she preceded to relate a tale about how Abby had worn her flip flops, stepped on a fly, wouldn't clean the shoe... I very calmly closed the door on her.
But Mommy, this is really important. She smeared fly guts on me!
WHAT!
So I stomp upstairs to pull one unsuspecting daughter out of the bunk room to have a firm talking to. What on earth were you thinking, smearing fly guts on your sister, really? And it goes on, it was probably one of the most riveting parental speeches I have ever given. Midway through, Abby shows me her arm which has several scratch marks on it. Where did you get that from? Apparently Alli wasn't as innocent in this as she appeared. So I go to pull the other unsuspecting daughter out of the room and continue with one of the greatest parental tirades of all time.
After hearing Alli and Abby's side, I got to hear the truth. Jen and Krista gave me all the dirt. Apparently, yes there was a fly on the bottom of the shoe, and then the shoes somehow made it to Abby's pillow, who threw the shoes at Alli, who thought that fly guts had gotten on her, who then proceeded to beat the crap out of Abby, screaming ,"Who steps on a fly anyway?" And while Abby was being berated by Mom, Alli was in the room grinning from ear to ear.
My point: This has got to be the dumbest, most stupid, biggest waste of time and energy argument in God's green Earth. I mean World War 3 was about to erupt in the bunk room at the beach over a fly. REALLY! It's a fly!
So to make me feel better, I would love to hear about the dumbest argument you have ever had. Come on, lay them on me. Someone has to top this fly episode, if not make something up. Plus it's storming today, so I would love nothing better than to neglect my children, and have emails flood my inbox. Come on, help a bored, distressed mother out.