Spend time in prison? No thanks, I have children.

Everyone should have kids. They are the greatest joy in the world. But they are also terrorists. You'll realize this as soon as they are born and they start using sleep deprivation to break you.           -------Ray Romano

We are three days into March break and I am not sure I will survive. We are stuck in the house. There is literally ten feet of snow outside and we can't go anywhere because we can't find the car.  I can't send my monkeys outside because I loose them in the snow.

Spending all day with my kids (and a rerun of Criminal Minds I watched today) has got me thinking,  Who needs homeland security?  Let my crack team of little angels interrogate suspected terrorists.  The terrorists would not last a day around my bunch. 

Here (in no particular order) is why my little monsters would be better than the most seasoned CIA or CSIS agents:

1.   Non stop questions. After a day of fielding such questions as "Is bugs bunny mean or  nice in this cartoon?", "How come Fred Flinstone's car does not have an engine but he is not pushing it with his feet?" "Why is Shaggy scared all the time?"  "Is Foghorn Leghorn going to get in trouble in this episode or is the dog going to get into trouble?" "When its a commercial in a cartoon do they slow down the camera?"      Even the most diabolical terrorist will be begging to talk about secret evil plots.

2. Sleep deprivation. Let the terrorist share a room with my youngest monster.  After a night dealing with her four am wake up--scream--eventually calm down--play and be happy until its back to bed time then scream again--eventually fall asleep only to wake up 2 hours later routine, A life in prison will seem like a holiday (At least he could sleep at night).

3. No rest for the wicked. Have the terrorist spend the day with my three year old.  As soon as his feet hit the floor in the morning, my little one will ask for a drink of milk.  Once he gets that and returns to his seat, my little one will want toast.  The day will unfold with him having to get up a million times, for a variety of reasons. These include turning on the bathroom light, retrieving pink bear from some location little arms can't reach, getting the crayons from the high shelf, retrieving a lost ball, marble or necklace. 
Just when it seems the raging sea of demands has slowed to a wave, the terrorist will hear "I m hungry." 
When the blessed relief of bedtime finally rolls around he will have the pleasure of convincing my monkey to go to bed then convince her to sleep (I hope he has better luck than I do; She has been in bed for over an hour and is still kicking the wall).  This combined with the aforementioned sleep deprivation, will drive the most seasoned terrorist insane.

4. Constant noise.  I heard that soldiers sometimes play loud annoying music to flush out terrorists.  
Please. That's child's play. 
If you want to crack a terrorist, let him watch my six year old's hockey game.  Not a real hockey game, a pretend game played in my rec room.  The periods last about 2 min (at which time the buzzer sounds, a sound made by my child but it is just as loud as at the arena) There is a goal about every 10 seconds (Which gives rise to shouts of  Yay!! yahoo!! at the top of his lungs-- just like at the arena). After the goal comes the face off, which requires a whistle and a puck drop.  On top of all of that, there is the sound of the puck hitting the floor, the wall, and the laundry baskets set up as nets.
Then the game starts again, requiring the singing of "O Canada". This happens all day everyday, until I flip my lid and threaten to throw out all of the hockey sticks, pucks and nets in our house.  Let's see if the terrorist can handle that.

5. Water torture.  Let Mr. terrorist give my kids a bath. First, wrestling them into the tub is usually just that--a wrestling match fraught with tears, punching, kicking, and the kids haven't even made it into the water.  Once they are in the water, convincing my six year old to wash his hair takes upwards of 30 min, usually resulting in me giving up and just dumping the water over his head, resulting in a blood curdling scream. The other two, hearing the scream decide they should be screaming too. 
Now there are three wet and screaming children in an enclosed space---Not good. 
Once everyone is calm, my older two decide its time to swim.  Now they are sliding in the tub splashing water everywhere, including all over the floor the towels, everything. Hopefully he manages to get the baby out in the nick of time. There would be Mr. terrorist, wet and frustrated.
When the bath comes to a merciful end, and he reaches to help my three year old out of the tub, "Splash!!" steps right into a puddle.  Nothing is more maddening than wet feet!

I could go on, but I think I have proved my point.  Should the government wish to reach me I would be more than happy to loan out my little operatives.  CSIS could save a fortune.

 Come to think of it, as I look out my window at the ten feet of snow and I contemplate another day with my munchkins, I am thinking that a stint in Guantanamo Bay doesn't sound so bad.  At least there is no snow there, right?