"Dad's gonna kill you." 
One problem at a time, Gail. Focus! 
"Look at the mess in here!" I scolded and pointed my finger at Applehead, who sat on the floor behind the couch and looked remorseful as ever. His eyes were pooling with tears and his bottom lip was trembling, and he fiddled with a button on his red button up shirt. But I was too angry to feel sorry for him. 
"Clean it up!" 
It was like I'd poked him with a cattle prod, because he jolted up and ran for the first broken item he found. It was a porcelain horse. Or... Had been. And now Applehead cut himself on it. 
"Oh, you damn imbecile," I grumbled to myself. Then I grabbed his hand and pulled the crying man after me into the bathroom where the first aid kit was. 
"You others can go outside and play. I'll clean this up myself," I said to the other kids, and they didn't hesitate to do as I said. 
"And try to stay out of trouble!" 
The door slammed shut before I finished the sentence, but I was too busy trying to keep my husband from smearing blood all over himself to really care. Normally they didn't cause half the trouble their dad did anyway. 
"What am I gonna do with you?" I huffed and looked at the sobbing mess who was now seated on the floor. 
"Mickey Mouse or Goofy?" I asked, wondering which bandaid to put on. 
"Mickey," he sniffled, and whimpered a bit when I cleaned the cut on his finger. Luckily it wasn't deep enough to need stitches, but hopefully it would be enough to remind him what happens when he brings wild animals inside. Unfortunately, that only lasted about thirty minutes. I wasn't even done fixing the lamp, until I heard him screaming from his room. 
"What now?" I groaned. That damn man child wasn't even let out out of the house, because I couldn't trust what he would drag inside next. I figured that as long as he was in his room, he'd have to draw the animals if he wanted any. Or make them with Play-Doh. But I was wrong. Terribly wrong. Because what I saw when I came into his room, was a bleeding boy with a baby fox jumping around him. 
"Freddy bit my arm!" he sobbed and pointed at the fox. Then it bit his finger as well, and Applehead cried even louder. 
"What the hell? When did you get that inside?" 
"H-he's b-been living inside m-my clooooooseeeet," he cried, but the words were so chopped up that it was difficult to hear what he said. Then the fox tried to bite me, and I took the opportunity to grab him by the neck just like a mother fox would do. Where was its mother anyway? 
I walked over to the closet and took a quick look, just to make sure that the rest of the family wasn't in there too. And when I saw it was empty, I carried the fox, that automatically had curled up into a tiny fur ball, outside. 
"What? How...? When?" Annie exclaimed when she saw me putting the fox down to let it run back to wherever it was it came from. And out of experience, I had made sure to close the door to keep it from running back inside. 
Like the squirrel last week... Damn, that one bit hard! 
"Don't ask," I mumbled and stomped back inside. I cleaned up the puncture marks from razor sharp fox cub teeth, and put on bandaids that now included all the members of the Disney clan in total. And when I was done, I sat back on my heels and studied him. 
"You look like a patchwork." 
"What's a patchwork?" 
"A blanket."