Tuesday, August 6, 2013

It's like 10,00 spoons

School starts for my three in 8 days.  Perhaps not a day too soon. 

Yesterday I had some business to do on the phone.  Real business, not just the,"I want to talk to Susie/Sally/Amy/my Aunt/Steve's mom on the phone" kind of business.  And since my kids have this weird radar/sixth sense/evil plot to ruin my life while I'm on the phone thing going on, I quietly snuck up to my bedroom and locked the door.  (Mature moment of the day #1)

As I was on hold with the electric company (don't ask) I began hearing blood curdling screams- which are basically white noise to me these days. I heard a door slam.  Then I heard the hysterics change from indoor shrieks to outdoor shrieks.  Still locked in my bedroom but finally actually conducting business, I was trapped.

Vectren finally finished being oh so helpful and when I got downstairs, Olivia was in high drama and she and Turner ran inside with the screen door slamming behind them.  Each one armed with  KNIVES.  (OK, so they were butter knives, but STILL.)  What, are they insane??? 

There are a lot of bad habits that I know they get from me:  Rolling of the eyes.  Mine.  Sighing.  Mine.  Even an occasional "Stop it." But I can assure you- chasing people with butter knives is not one of them.  What did they think was going to happen anyway?  Were they going to butter each other up and have breakfast?

They were each sent to their rooms.  Quinn was *for once* asked to do what he does best, tattle.  I got the scoop from the only sane person in the house at that time.  Cool as a cucumber, he rattled through the account.  Seems it really does take two to tango (and to go all Freddy Kruger on your sibling.)

After I semi-calmly lectured each of them individually (like the mature adult that I am) about how if someone driving through the neighborhood would have seen them doing what they were doing they would have called the police.  Not only would both of them be in trouble but so would daddy and I.  Turner's big question was what would happen to Quinn if we were all in jail?  Olivia just looked at me like a deer in headlights.  A fine parenting moment; I'm not proud.

So if for no other reason, we need school to begin so that Quinn doesn't have to hold down the fort by himself, with no clean knives left to butter his bread with.  THAT would be tragic.


Colleen said...

I hide when I talk on the phone all the time. It is eerie how kids sense when you're on the phone or even thinking about making a call. Drives me nuts! I'm chuckling at the thought of those two kids running around with butter knives.

Unknown said...

Every child needs to hear the story of what would happen if child services comes knocking at the door. In NYC, the lecture starts with: "The people on the other side of your bedroom wall can hear this and they will call child services..." Oh the mature threat of a government agency coming to dole out punishment.

Lauren K said...

I just love reading your blog and stories like this! Being a mom sounds insane!