Did Jane Ever Go To Jail?

The kids are in the bath, and I'm eating the last piece of pizza.  My ass is protesting, but (no pun intended) I need it.  I need to eat it out of spite, revenge and serotonin.  Pizza has that, right?  I need some peace flushing through my veins right now.

I caught my son stealing today.

So I'm eating his pizza.  The spite and revenge don't matter much outside of my imagination because 1. he isn't watching me eat the pizza after he told me not to, and 2. he's finished dinner anyway.

'Been Caught Stealing' is playing in the background as I try to figure out what to do.  Yes, we are going back to his teacher tomorrow with the pilfered marbles in hand so he can give them back with a tearful apology, but what else to do?

Mind, this is all in the same afternoon that I found a box of 'treasures' under the bed.  Not the typical treasures either.  He made a concoction of items that he collected from around the house.  In the box, from bottom to top, were... batteries, the contents of 2 bottles of shampoo, the contents of both a bottle of powder and calcium tablets which when mixed with the a fore mentioned shampoo created a weird gloopy white sponge.  There were also some matchbox cars and teeth whitening strips that I think he used as sprinkles.

This science experiment of a family is shattering all of the hypotheses I had.  I think my brain is leaking, just like batteries that are eroding in a bath of shampoo.