Not the most effective parenting technique

This weekend my brother-in-law came in from Amsterdam with his wife and three-year-old son. We showed them around the area a bit, and the weather was fabulous so we spent an inordinate amount of time drinking coffee outside of a well-known art museum. (We never actually made it in to see the exhibits this time, but hey, if we aren't going to soak up some culture at least we can say we sat near it!)

The boys all get along really well, and they ran around and played until they dropped. So I was less than happy Sunday morning at 6:23am when I heard S and B talking and laughing-- they were so rowdy that they woke me up in our bedroom two floors down.

I could hardly see, I was so tired, and I staggered up the stairs and into their dark bedroom. Started shouting at them in a whisper-- mothers are really good at that!-- what are you thinking?! it's 6:30 in the morning and DON'T YOU DARE WAKE YOUR COUSIN UP OR THERE WILL BE HELL TO PAY! etc.

And for once there were no smart-alecky replies. They must have been impressed because they just stayed silent under their covers. Which was pretty satisfying. I told them to hang on until at least 7 and that they could then get up.

Started to head downstairs, happy that they had really listened to me. But then suddenly I heard them talking again and saw light coming out from under the playroom door down the hall and it dawned on my thick, foggy brain:

I had just lectured two empty beds.