My children are ages 4 and 7. Raising them is exhausting. It's like having two best friends who are always drunk and your community service court ordered job is to follow them around and clean up their messes. Yesterday morning, my brother-in-law Joe called from Virginia while I was driving our daughter Sophia to preschool, before heading to a meeting with a client. Joe is about to retire after 20 years in the Navy. He had been stationed on the Carl Vincent which was the ship where bin Laden's body was taken. Our conversation lasted seven minutes before I pulled into the preschool parking lot and was shocked by what I saw in the rearview mirror. Before we left the house I had strapped in a small child but now arrived with Lady Gaga just two miles later. Seven minutes turned out to be plenty of time for Sophia to apply the makeup kit she had stowed away in her Snow White purse. Rouge, mascara, lipstick, eye shadow (over and under the eyes)... the works. A tussle ensued when I came at Sophia with a wet wipe -- a tussle which I lost. She was beaming as I delivered her to class looking like Tammy Fay Baker. I muttered something at the teachers and fellow parents, then left to drive on to my meeting with lipstick and eye shadow stains on my dress shirt.