BY KATHRYN A. HIGGINS

Charlotte: Mom, Matthew won't let me use his iPod.
Matthew: It's MY iPod.
Charlotte: You're not using it!
Matthew: Use your own iPod.
Charlotte: Mine's charging. Why can't I use yours?
(Kids: Squabbling, etc.)
Me (regally): Bring me the iPod! I shall use this meat cleaver to divide the iPod equally amongst you (1 Kings 16-28).
Charlotte: OK.
Matthew: What the hell?

Me: Do you pay attention to the sermons?
Matthew: Yes, if they're interesting. That one today about the rich man getting into heaven being like a camel getting through the eye of a needle (Mark 19:24). It wouldn't be that hard. All you need is a really really big needle.
Me: Or a really good blender.

Matthew: I get the last piece of pie!
Charlotte: You had more pie than I did. I get the last piece!
Me: Render unto Mom the things which are Mom's (Matthew 22).
Kids: Huh?
Me: The pie is mine.

Matthew: I don't know what to be for Halloween.
Me: How about being the same thing you were last year?
Matthew: No.
Me: What about being a girl? You would make a pretty little girl.
Matthew: No.
Me: How about Lazarus (John 11)? You could get all gory and wrap yourself in bandages.
Matthew: Yeah, cool!

Charlotte: Mom, Matthew won't let me use the computer.
Me (reclining, watching Kill Bill Vol II): Get out of the way, I can't see.
Matthew: Mom, Charlotte hit me!
Charlotte: He hit me. And he won't let me use the computer.
Matthew: I'm using it! And she hit me first!
Me: An eye for an eye (Exodus 21:22). I saith unto you: if you have each hit each other once then you shall now stop, and now, having stopped hitting one another, you shall return to your childlike occupations so I can watch Uma Thurman do unto Darryl Hannah what I might have to do unto you if you don't shut up and get out of my way.

Me (on Easter): I've heard The Messiah enough times. Let's listen to Jesus Christ Superstar now.
Kids: Yeah!
Me: We can count the whip cracks!

Charlotte (hovering at my door): Mom, what are you doing?
Me: Nothing. Come on in!
Charlotte: Well, Mom, I just wanted to make sure...
Me: That I'm not NAKED?
Charlotte: Eeewwww! Mom!
Me: I AM! I'm NAKED! And I'm going to come out now.
(Charlotte runs to her room and shuts the door.)
Me (walking towards Charlotte's door): Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked shall I return there (Job 1:21).
Charlotte: Eeewww! Mom, go away!
Me: I'm not really naked, silly!

Kids: Mom, we're hungry. There's nothing to eat!
Me: Nothing you like, you mean.
Kids: There's just that yucky stir fry with all the broccoli. Ewww.
Me: Ungrateful children! Eat the stir fry which I made for you with my own hands and spatulas.
Kids: Ewwww! We want Pop-Tarts.
Me (aside): Two hundred pennyworth of stir fry is not enough for them. Whence shall I buy bread, so that these complainers will eat? (John 6:7 and 6:5.)

Kids: Is there a Santa Claus?
Me: Do you want there to be a Santa Claus?
Kids: Yes.
Me: Then there IS a Santa Claus!
Kids: Is there a God?
Me: Do you want there to be a God?
Kids: Yes.
Me: Then there IS a God!

Kathryn A. Higgins is writer and mom living with her two children. She has a B.A. in English Lit from U.C. Berkeley and an MFA in Writing from Sarah Lawrence College. She's been published in McSweeney's Internet Tendency, Real Simple Magazine, thefastertimes.com, therumpus.net, thebigjewel.com, health.com, xtremetravelstories.com, spitefulcritic.com, Sanskrit, farmhousemagazine.com, The Litchfield Literary Review, The American Organist, darien.patch.com, Whatever, Musings, The Connecticut Post, and other publications. She was a reader for The Paris Review. An article in therumpus.net listed her as one of the funniest women writers for McSweeney’s. Kathryn can be reached at: kathrynahiggins@aol.com.

1. I can't...

2. I hate...

3. shut up

4. that sucks

5. Dick Van Dyke

6. nutsack

7. Tiger Woods

8. Tiger Woods' nutsack

9. fart

BY JOHN CAVE OSBORNE

1. The trips eat dinner at five and go down at seven, leaving me a brief, but effective, window for bingo.

2. Simultaneous meltdowns by three fussy 2-year-olds? They're starting to not bother me. My hearing's not what it used to be.

3. Even on the rare occasions when such meltdowns do bother me, I can always spit out my dentures. They're usually good for a laugh. Especially when I chase the trips around the house while chomping them together with my hand.

4. Whenever I hear one of the trips crying through the monitor at three in the morning, it's not that big of a deal for me to get up and see what the problem is. It's overwhelmingly likely that I need to pee anyway.

5. Whenever we run out of diapers, I'm happy to let them borrow my Depends.

6. They love to play with my cane.

7. But that's nothing compared to the joy they get from swinging on the crossbar of my walker.

8. No more complaining about children sitting super-close to a TV with the volume cranked up. I'm suddenly doing it, too.

9. Whenever one of the trips is constipated, no more running to the store. I'm more than happy to share my prune juice with them.

John Cave Osborne is a husband, a stepfather to an 8-year-old daughter, a dad to 2-year-old triplets, a small business owner (granite countertop fabricator), the author of the book Tales from the Trips, and a blogger, hiker, camper, runner, and head-turner on the dance floor. You can learn more about John and his book at: LaughterThought Media. He can be reached at: john@laughterthoughtmedia.com.

BY WHITNEY COLLINS

1. The force, yes. It everywhere is. Even in that diaper. Huge it is.

2. The baby to sleep put. Then vodka you can drink.

3. Spank do not. Unless you want your child a homosexual drug addict to be.

4. Sex never again you will have. Unless for it you pay.

5. His mind Yoda change. That baby a Sith be. Spank you must. Beat even.

6. The dark side I sense in you. To formula I think you should switch.

7. Twilight is upon me. Soon night must fall. For you? Not so much.

8. Vaginal birth more painful than c-section is. There. Yoda that argument solve.

9. Wookiees great nannies make.

BY ELIZABETH BASTOS

1. Notice the good things your children and husband are doing. (Maybe they are drawing their letters on the dry-erase board. Good for them!)

2. Tell them you've noticed. (And choose words like: "I've noticed the word ANUS.")

3. Say what makes you proud about it. ("And this time Daddy correctly spelled it!")

4. Smile beatifically, then busy yourself in the kitchen making all-white-meat-pounded-panko-breaded chicken nuggets.

5. The easiest way to be positive is not to think.

6. So, conclude dinner with encouragement and hope for the future. (Try this: "Next time, Alexander, you're going to remember how it felt to have peas stuffed up your nose. And you'll make different choices!")

7. Again, smile beatifically, clean up, and, again, don't think.

8. Do not be sarcastic.

9. You might get some reward sex from your husband because "Good job, you moron, next time why don't you spell DOUCHEBAG!" is what you won't have said.

Elizabeth is a stay-at-home mother of two under five. Before having kids, she worked in corporate and foundation relations, and before that at the Museum of Science, Boston. She moonlights writing in the very early mornings before everyone gets up and wants things. In the little free time she has, Elizabeth makes complicated French patries to tempt her kids into doing what she asks. Her work has appeared in terrain.org, The Delmarva Review, McSweeney's Internet Tendency, Tar River Poetry, and the Baltimore City Paper. Visit her blog: Goody Bastos. Elizabeth can be reached at: elizabeth.bastos@gmail.com.

BY JOHN CAVE OSBORNE

1. Outside of sporting events and camping trips, my triplets are the biggest reason the hotdog industry is alive and well.

2. Necessity taught me how to pick up and carry three babies at the same time. It also taught me how to relieve myself while holding two and using my leg to keep the third out of, um, the line of fire.

3. Little boys wear gowns. (Really?) These gowns are manufactured by companies with names like Kissy Kissy. (Is this true???) Said manufacturers, I've concluded, are trying to turn my boys into the laughing stock of the male baby community. Why don't they just go ahead and hand out free ass-kickings with each emasculating purchase my wife insists on making?

4. I could win the Nobel Peace Prize, but most people would still know me as "that poor bastard with 2-year-old triplets."

5. Our dog likes to eat soiled diapers which should have come as no surprise. After all, my wife's always said he's got shit for brains. I suppose it was only a matter of time before he started having shit for lunch.

6. With three babies, it's virtually impossible to be over-protective, which, incidentally, has filled me with disdain for those who are. You know, those who act as if they're the first couple to ever have a baby? The ones who treat their infant as if the very survival of planet Earth is directly proportional to their kid's well-being? Friendly reminder for such folks: you're like the umpteenth BILLION couple to have a baby. This month. Back in the stone ages, babies were raised in caves, for crying out loud. They're not gonna break. Quit treating them like they might. If your kid misses a nap, eats some dirt, or skins his knee, he'll be okay. All you're doing is creating a sissy. (Wait, you don't work for a baby clothing manufacturer, do you?)

7. Buttons suck, snaps rock, and zippers RULE!

8. Doubling the size of your family overnight by quadrupling the number of children in it does not affect the amount of love you can give each one. Love is infinite, and infinity divided by any number is still infinity.

9. It turns out my mom was right. Kissing a dog on the mouth isn't such a great idea after all.

John Cave Osborne is a husband, stepfather to an 8-year-old daughter, dad to 2-year-old triplets, small business owner (granite countertop fabricator), author of the book Tales from the Trips, and a blogger, hiker, camper, runner, and head-turner on the dance floor. You can learn more about John and his book at: LaughterThought Media. He can be reached at: john@laughterthoughtmedia.com.

BY K. BOND

1. Gitouta Miefavrit Chare

2. Aktliek Wealwayz Blesdinner

3. Rimoat Duznt Bilongtuyu

4. Leftlysaul Nthebath Ruumforue

5. Eckscoozd Frumbringin Tupotlux

6. Icuduze Themunie Youohme

7. Nowii Ifu Saishesteenks

8. Nosexifu Tellem Iregift

9. Yuritchin Foray Butwoopin

K. Bond is the Grand Prize Winner of our Thanksgiving-themed Top Nine List Contest. K. wins $50, lots of errant parent merchandise, and a bottle of Kentucky bourbon. Congrats!! K. lives in St. Louis near the Arch with her husband and two rambunctious (yet adorable) children. She holds a BBA and draws on experience in business writing to entertain readers. Her fiction is published in various online and print publications. She can be reached at: k.bondofstl@yahoo.com

BY REBECCA NAZAR

1. Police Do Not Cross Tape

2. A Plethora of Post-It Notes That Read: I Have Tested Positive for (fill in the blank).

3. Soap Chips

4. Fly Tape (unused)

5. Shaving Cream (used)

6. Pine Bark

7. Small Mirrors

8. Old Birds' Nests

9. Coarse-grade Sandpaper

*because the "Please Don't Touch" t-shirt was a bust last year

Rebecca is the Runner-up for our Thanksgiving-themed Top Nine List Contest. Rebecca lives in Readfield, Maine. She can be reached at: becca.nazar@gmail.com

1. A hot car.

2. A meat locker, after hours.

3. In the same place you hid the time before.

4. A cannon. Unless, maybe, you have on a helmet.

5. A clothes dryer. Unless, maybe, it's one of those big ones at the laundromat, and then that might be sorta cool. Plus, you could see out and wave and crap.

6. In a crowd of unsuspecting nitwits wearing a red-and-white striped shirt and a red-and-white striped tam and some dorky-ass spectacles.

7. In a bathroom stall, crouched on the toilet seat. Like no one's ever going to look there.

8. In a godforsaken weather balloon, that is, if you can find one. My dad never made anything that cool. Have you ever tried hiding in a three-legged, lopsided, plywood magazine rack? Huh? HUH?!

9. In an f-cking box in the f-cking attic for four f-cking hours.

1. A card. A Hallmark card, preferably. Those American Greetings ones just don't say it from the heart. Even better, a handwritten sonnet.

2. Flowers, but not carnations. And not flowers from the grocery store. Roses, okay? Yellow ones. At least two dozen.

3. A pedicure.

4. Steel Magnolias on DVD. Or maybe Terms of Endearment. Or Fried Green Tomatoes. I'm not picky.

5. You think you could manage some foreplay? Geez!

6. An uninterrupted bubble bath. With enough time to get through at least a quarter of Twilight. All my friends are already on the second book in the series, for Pete's sake.

7. A good cry.

8. A ride on a pretty unicorn.

9. And finally, if it's not too much to ask, I'd like to have sex with a couple of hot lesbians followed by a steak burrito, a six-pack of Bud, four straight hours of commercial-free golf, and a Cuban cigar. Oh. And a new iPhone, too. One that shoots baby deer.

1. Girdle

2. Shoehorn

3. Circular Saw

4. Football Helmet

5. Mustache Wax

6. Macaroni Necklace (from husband)

7. Finger in the Eye

8. Herpes

9. Cup of Sanka

1.T.

2. Rex

3. Pteri

4. Brontay

5. Dinah

6. Trice

7. Don

8. Aiden, Braden, Caden, Hayden, Jaden (tie)

9. Tiffany