Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Just So I Don't Kill Him

I try very hard to make this blog about me and the kids, with the occasional funny story about Jim. I think I've followed that rule pretty successfully up until now. Today, I am going to rant just a bit.

It has not been a fun morning in our household. The kids are peevish from lack of sleep (all four of us were in one bed last night). I'm peevish from lack of sleep. As a result, when the kids wanted to play in Lily's room, I was happy to let them go. And then...silence. I am angry with myself for not checking out the cause of the silence immediately, because I should know better. Sadly, I continued to update my blog widgets and peruse patterns on Ravelry. After about 10 minutes, however, I thought it behooved me to check on them.

They were not in Lily's bedroom. They had decided it would be more fun to play upstairs in my room and Jack's room. I called up the stairs and asked what they were doing. Lily said "We'll be right down, Mom. C'mon, Jack."

Those words sent chills down my spine. I practically sprang from the first floor to the second in a single bound. The upstairs was messy. The kids had pulled out a lot of Jack's stuffed animals and a few of Lily's, and they were lying around the room like casualties on a battle field. All of the pillows were on the floor, and there were several long pieces of what looked like accordian pleated plastic wrap lying around. Annoying, but a mess is easy to clean.

And then, there was the smell. A fruity smell. I asked Lily what the smell was and she said "We just washed our hands with some soap."

Me: "What soap?"

Lily: "I'll go put it away."

Me: "What soap are you talking about?"

Lily: "The shampoo soap you bought yesterday." She ran off and came back with the bottle of shampoo, now more than a quarter empty. I lectured her and told both kids to pick up the mess and get downstairs. I went down and put the shampoo in the cabinet. Where it belongs. Where the kids can't reach it. Where Jim failed to store it last night after bath time.

And...I noticed the brand new bottle of Mr. Bubble Bubble Bath was missing. Again, I sprang like a gazelle up the stairs and looked wildly around. I noticed nothing unusual, so I begin to interrogate the kids.

Me: "Where is the bubble bath? Did you take that, too?"

Lily: "I decided to hide it."

Me: "Where?"

Lily: "I'm a very curious child." Giggle, giggle, giggle.

Me: "Where. Is. The. Bubble. Bath."

Lily: "I used some to wash my stuffed animals."

Me: "Did you use it all? Where is it?"

Lily: "There's a little left."


Lily: "Here it is." She had hidden it in the drawer under Jack's crib. It was partially open and lying in a cardboard box.

The cardboard box was drenched with soap. Upon closer inspection, there were several animals and pillows drenched with soap as well. The bubble bath? That I bought yesterday and we used once last night? Empty. Because Jim failed to put it in the cabinet, where it belongs and where the kids can't reach it.

Now, I know I share the blame, because I should have immediately looked for the kids when everything went silent. Silence = Very Bad. But I have more, oh so much more to rant about.

I was annoyed by the shampoo/bubble bath lollapalooza, but, mindful of my own contribution, I managed to remain calm. I hauled the kids downstairs so that I could keep them under constant surveillance, and went into the kitchen to make some breakfast for myself. I opened the refrigerator and grabbed some bagels and then looked for the cream cheese.

When I opened it, this is what I found:

That's right, there is barely enough cream cheese to cover half a bagel, never mind two entire halves. Someone had replaced a near-empty container of cream cheese in the refrigerator. Up high. On a shelf that our children cannot reach. I know it wasn't me.

I was also treated to this lovely vision after I moved the cream cheese container:

Doesn't it just make you crave a banana? And right next to that, I noticed a second container. I opened it and this is what I saw:

Yes. Jim made pizza two nights ago and decided he Just. Couldn't. slice up the last TWO olives and put them on the pizza. I guess he figured it was more important to save those two olives by shoving them into the back of the refrigerator in their container. Since neither of us drink martinis, I am not certain what he believed we would do with these two olives. Maybe they would be serve as an amuse bouche? A little midnight snack?

The little seed of annoyance sprouted into a small sapling of rage. That is when I decided to write about it in order to avoid pelting Jim with the two olives and rotting banana when he walked in the door. Mission barely accomplished.

Epilogue: While I was writing this post, Lily took her brother into the kitchen with her where she told me she was getting a drink. In fact, she removed the bubble bath container from the trash, squirted the last few drops into Jim's partially filled orange juice glass from this morning, added a dash of water and gave it to Jack with a straw in it. He, of course, took a big sip. Apparently, bubble bath doesn't taste so good, and makes you drool and gag bubbles. He had his revenge, though. Lily let him go with her to water her lettuce seedling later on and he threw the little pot to the ground, where it broke into a million pieces and splattered dirt everywhere.

I can't believe it's only 2:27 pm.

1 comment:

Uncle Barry & Aunt Carol said...

They sure are putting you through your paces!! Uncle Barry and I have read this three times and are still laughing!

By the way, is Jim still alive?