I don't know about Bern, but I feel like I've just gone 12 rounds with Iron Mike. And not the crazy modern bite-your-ear off Iron Mike, but the scary late 80's knock you out in under a minute Iron Mike. The boys were not at their most angelic tonight. Pretty much from the time I picked them up at the in-laws after work until bedtime at 8 they were rabid dogs. Well, not so much Liam, but Connor was full-out frothing at the mouth, must eat brains, I-will-lay-your-cities-to-waste, crazy. Add that to a week where I'm starting to think my job is actually trying to kill me and you will understand why I'm in bed at 9pm. My soul hurts.