This morning, I was prepping my kids for the housecleaning (that is even now continuing without me) and the following conversations took place:
Big T: “Mom, how clean do you want the bathroom.”
Me: “Pristine.”
“But seriously–what do you want me to clean?”
“The floors, the floors behind the toilet, the walls, the walls behind the toilet, the mirror, the shower, the outside of the toilet, the inside of the toilet, the sink, the counter by the sink, the mirrors, the shower…”
“So, everything.”
“Everything. I want it to look like the housecleaning Goddess herself wiggled her nose like in a commercial and the entire bathroom sparkled. I want it to be so clean we can light a potpourri candle in there just like all the other mommies in the world.”
“But Mom, we’re not like all those other families…”
“Well, dammit, I want the bathroom to be clean enough for me to go in, take a dump, close my eyes and pretend we ARE those other families!”
“Mo-om…MY INNER EYEBALL!!! GEES, I’m stuck with that image for the rest of my life!”
But the bathroom is now clean!
And then, later…
Mom: “Chicken–are you aware that at darkthirty a.m. your psycho-cat goes completely apeshit?”
Chicken: “Yeah, Mom, it’s a laugh riot.”
“No…I mean… he gets really frisky…”
“I know–he attacks my feet and then jumps up to look in my eyes so when I scream about my feet he can REALLY freak me out!”
“It’s worse than that, Chicken… he found another skein of yarn… and… he was doing, you know, BAD things…”
“Mom, was he humping your yarn again?”
*sob* “Yes…”
“What yarn was it?”
“The Miss Priss Hermione,” *sniffle* “Chicken, I’m afraid she’s no longer pure… she may never be the same.”
Chicken patted my back. “It’s okay, Mom–he does the same thing to the alpaca Al Pacas…I started putting them in boxes and hiding them around the room to watch him find them. They’re, uhm, not virgins anymore either.”
And as for the short people? They are currently chasing each other around the house–when they’re not DUCT TAPING their stockings to the wall (we couldn’t find thumb tacks) and fondling the Christmas gifts from mom, dad, & siblings under the tree. (Santa comes tomorrow…) The fondling is actually a little disturbing, but we can’t get Ladybug to stop.
*sigh* They are my children, aren’t they? And currently, they are all listening to Big T reading ‘How the Grinch STole Christmas.’
I wish you and yours fun conversations, warmth, squishimas, an enthusiastic Holiday (of your choice) story, told with full heart (and full volume) by someone you adore. I wish you warm feet, warm hearts, good yarn, entertaining yarns, and love.
Happy Holidays to you and yours– from me and mine.
