My children are out to get me. And by get me, I mean they are hoping that they will drive me nuts and I will forget my rules about TV watching, how often we eat out, and wearing clothing in public. For some reason, they are highly adverse to wearing normal clothes in public.
I know they are out to get me because their attacks are too coordinated to be considered coincidences. For instance, while I was standing in the shower stall scrubbing the walls with a bucket of bleach at my feet I heard Griffin yell, “Mommy, is it OK if I umfmmssgrmd? OK, Tanks!”
You’ll notice that the key part of that question was completely unintelligible. As though it were asked into a pillow cushion while facing a wall. He knows I can’t come out. He’s already been on several recon missions to ascertain just how committed to cleaning the shower I really am. He’s looked at the fact that I’ve changed clothes and am wearing rubber gloves and he’s decided, “yep, this is as free as it gets. Time to practice my skydiving technique off of Mommy’s bed.” He yells “parachuting!” while he jumps.
When my mother called and I was distracted by the ringing phone Griffin pulled all of the cushions off the sofa to make a fort. While I was looking at the fort and listening to my mother explain that even though she had been put to sleep at the dentist she was totally o.k. to both drive and talk and that she felt “mellow”, Charlotte took cups of milk without lids to the play room for snack time.
When I hung up the phone Harry stole it and headed for the stairs while I tried to unload the dishwasher. When I caught up to Harry I realized he needed a diaper and by the time I made it to the play room after changing him, Griffin had spilled his milk all over his shirt.
While I got Griffin cleaned up (making his shirt the one dirty item of clothing in the house), Harry found the not-quite-empty milk cup and dumped it on the carpet. While I cleaned that up, Harry grabbed my computer and tried to start his own blog.
While I tried to retrieve my computer, Charlotte began to ask me what we were having for dinner and could we please eat out, or in front of the TV, or something fun? She also threw a stuffed animal at Harry and claimed she was just trying to put it on the stairs for later.
Then (and I could end every story with this statement) Griffin climbed on Harry’s head.
My only defense is to try to keep them in my sights at all times. Or perhaps get a Sister Wife. Except that she would probably have her own kids and I really don’t want to watch them, so I guess I’m just going to have to learn how to see around corners, give up sleep, and only use the restroom after 7:30pm. Wish me luck.