Going to Agumano

This story is long overdue, but it was interrupted by Quandaries (making it indeed, the nature of Just Barely), and then by laundry, and then by dinner, and then by snotty noses...

I should have gone to check on them, but I needed to get their lunch ready and it was so much easier to do with them not around.
I should have gone to check on them once their lunch was on the table, but I was hungry too and I thought I might get a chance to actually make myself a real lunch today--one that consisted of more than peanut butter and jelly crusts and smashed banana butts.
I should have gone to check on them, but I couldn't resist the opportunity to actually sat down, in my own chair, without anyone else in my lap, and eat my own lunch--without any little fingers touching it/eating it/smearing it on my shirt.
I should have gone to check on them, but it would be a real time saver to be able to clean up this morning's dishes before they took their naps.
I should have gone to check on them, but my mom sent me an interesting cookbook that I hadn't (and likely never would have) had a chance to flip through.
I should have gone to check on them, but it was so damn quiet, quieter than it's been since Addison was born. Come to think of it, it was quieter than it has ever been since we moved in to this house. It was almost, but not quite, too quiet. Okay, it was too quiet. It was time to break the spell and finally go check on them.

I located my camera (they were bound to be doing something that I needed to catch on film in order for people to believe me), and set off to find them. Where they in they in the playroom? Of course not. The family room? Still too sanctioned of a space. The upstairs bathroom, putting the cat's food in his water? For once, no. They weren't in any of the bedrooms unfolding the laundry or in my bathroom sticking their fingers in my make-up either. Unless they broke through the defenses of the child proof door locks (which most of my kidless friends can't even operate), there was only one place left--the downstairs bathroom. I had skipped searching it earlier because there wasn't any noise coming out of it. When I nudged the door open, I saw why. They had been too busy to make noise.

The children were sitting on the bathroom floor. Spread out before them was a roll of toilet paper and enough tampons for a tribe of menstruating Amazons. "What are you doing???" I asked. "Clean up this mess right now!" "Mommy, we can't! We're going to Agumano and we have to pack this stuff," the eldest informed me. The youngest just nodded. Gentlemen, I don't know where Agumano is, but if I were you I'd stay the hell away from there towards the end of the month...