Pick up the toys...

When Tate is up…Riley and him play…and when I say play, I mean they get every single last toy out in every single room.  I don't understand the purpose, but it drives me nuts.  So I make them pick up toys before lunch (even though they will get them back out after lunch) and pick toys up before nap and at bedtime.  So today, while I was making lunch, I told the boys to pick up " EVERY LAST TOY IN THIS HOUSE OR SO HELP ME!"  they giggled at me and complied.  They started downstairs and then I heard then tromped upstairs to pick up toys in their bedroom...and then I heard their bedroom door close.  I yelled as loud as I could "RILEY…OPEN THAT DOOR!!!!!"  Now, normally if they are doing something naughty, it's climbing into Tate's crib and acting like rabid chimpanzees at the zoo…but it was quiet…too quiet.  So I tip toed up the stairs, hoping to catch them in the act…I opened their door to find this:

Riley said, "Hi mom, were having a camp fire!"

I turned on the light and saw this:

They had fashioned a "camp fire" out of their train tracks and night light monitor.  My first instinct was to say "I thought I told you to pick up your toys…"  but how could I after seeing this:  both boys laying on the bed "looking at the stars" and staying warming by the "campfire"  These are rare moments…and I suppose it makes up for Tate pumping the soap into the toilet earlier this morning.