My mornings are filled with mystery, violence, and intrigue. I am constantly in the middle of complex negotiations, dire emergencies, and domestic disputes.

I wish I could say I was a fireman rushing into a burning building to save a little girl's puppy just after the sun rises, but I can't. I can't even blame talk radio for the madness that is my morning, or more specifically, my morning commute.

While others peacefully listen to their favorite morning DJs or chat with colleagues on cell phones, my ears are ringing with the sounds of chaos. That chaos is my three small children.

Anybody who's spent any time with kids in cars knows space and separation are essential to survival. It doesn't hurt to have a DVD player either, but I don't have that luxury.

I've got one backseat bench my kids squeeze on to like little canned Vienna sausages. It's the equivalent of putting porcupines in a fish tank. The odds are pretty good something is going to go wrong.

At least one of my kids will forget her homework or his lunchbox. Worst of all with three kids, it's almost a certainty someone forgot to go potty before he or she left the house.

Then I have to drive 90 mph to school just to avoid a catastrophic disaster on my cloth seats.

On a positive note, kids dealing with intestinal emergencies are far less likely to participate in arguments or random acts of violence. Generally, they have to concentrate too hard and save their strength for more pressing matters.

A typical morning for me goes something like this...

My pigtailed youngest daughter is ferociously defending her lyrical interpretation

of several High

School Musical songs. My oldest daughter is crawling across her sister to get to her seat stepping on various body parts and thumping a loaded book bag into her sister's head while arguing

her sister's version of Soaring

is completely wrong.

My youngest daughter does not take kindly to the corrections or the book bag to the forehead, so she pinches her sister with all the force two seven- year- old fingers can muster. This and the fact my oldest daughter has suddenly realized she forgot to complete a small but significant portion of her homework sends her into hysterics.

Meanwhile my four- year- old son has been watching one of his sister's pigtails bounce in front of his face. The temptation to grab it and give it a good solid tug is just too irresistible. Suddenly, my youngest daughter is crying too, and we haven't even gotten out of the driveway.

I spend the next 10 minutes or so sorting out the mess. Sometimes I break out the parental

clichés, Don't make me stop

this car! Other times I'll just go silent and visualize myself on a deserted beach sipping a bottomless fruity drink with a tiny umbrella. When this happens my kids eventually quit fighting each other to find out why I've got the goofy, far- off look on my face.

Most of the time I am the chief negotiator. I take all their demands and work out a solution that's usually to the dissatisfaction of everyone but me.

Peace and harmony are restored, and life is good Ounotoilo s…omI geoottnae g soa pyso,tty!