Thursday, February 28, 2008

There's something in the air

And its making my boys crazy.
Today, while I was interviewing (AKA trying to appear grown up and professional in my hooker heels) my boys went insane and took their daddy, whose mental stability was already questionable, with them.
First, it was the whining. "Daddy, watch NOGGGGINNN!" If you even so much as approach a remote control in our house, my oldest, Bug, will wake from a dead sleep to whine those words.
Second, its the mini Harry Houdini's. My boys can escape anything. Gates, no problem, Child safety latches, they laugh. A strait jacket with extra padlocks . . . well, let's just suppose we haven't really tried that one. Forget I said that.
Months ago, my husband won me a gift certificate to a chocolatier. I've hoarded that certificate for months, and finally decided that I was stressed enough to need a treat. Out of a 1/2 pound box, I got six chocolates. And they were scrumtious! Bug certainly thought so, because he ate the rest. My precious liquer and coffee filled preciouses ("My precious. My precious!") graced the palate of my culinarily uneducated child. (Insert the pearls before swine proverb here)
They tried to flush my make up down the toilet, and succeeded in a few precious cases. (When I can't pull my face together for tomorrow's interview, I'll know exactly who to blame, with their beautiful, dewey child skin that needs no cosmetic enhancements!)
They gave their sister a new cuddle toy for her bed, a bottle of Soft Scrub.
They peed in the house.
They did whatever in the heck they wanted when my husband closed his work weary eyes. (Silly man doesn't learn, does he?)
I've spoken to friends and their children are suffering from the same affliction. There must be a pheremone released into the air that's making my angels behave like the heathens I pretend they aren't.
Right now, I'm huddled in front of my computer, trying to type softly, clutching the baby and praying they don't hear me. Its almost bedtime. If I can just go undetected until bedtime, I might survive.
If not, I'll throw them the baby and run like hell.
Even this mama has her priorities.

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