In case you’re wondering, the boys are almost 9, just 6 and almost 4…and I am 45. Really, at these ages….
- Walking past an odd smell over and over again on the third floor. Wondering what Mr. Ornery got in to during his most recent “time-out”. Mind boggling. What is that smell? Ah-hah! A decaying banana. Nice. Almost as good as the moldy apple under my sister’s desk!!
- Cleaning poop out of a bathtub after a rapid evacuation by the innocent siblings and a drippy wet march to the third floor for showers.
- Picking up the pile of dirty clothes located precisely 1.33 feet away from the laundry basket placed strategically near boys’ bedroom door to receive said dirty clothes.
- Buying Mr. Clean Magic Erasers to scrub off colored and marked-up walls, including the inked initial with a circle around it (…and Mr. Ornery wants to know how I knew it was him who wrote on the wall!).
- Cleaning out the washing machine of the million-plus white pellets that erupt from a washed diaper that mysteriously ended up down the laundry chute rather than into the garbage pail.
- Retrieving the bottle of bath soap from the basement for the millionth time after it disappears down the laundry chute again and again….along with the little green army men, the Matchbox cars, the cup to rinse boys’ hair, the bouncy balls, the flash-light….pretty much anything that will fit down the hole. I keep wondering when a kid will consider if he will fit down the hole!
- Scrubbing blue toothpaste spots off the sink, the shelves, the walls and the floors of two bathrooms on a weekly basis.
- Putting plastic tape over a 3 inch hole in the bedroom window that somehow happened to have a toy “computer” go through it.
- Stooping over to pick up Lego pieces from every single floor space of the house! Every single day! Several times a day! Why do you have to pull their teeny tiny hands out of the teeny tiny arms?!?!
- And the number one thing I shouldn’t have to be doing — washing poop off the walls (bathroom, bedroom, radiators…). Yep. Nothing else to add. Shouldn’t have to be doing this….
BONUS: A bonus had to be added the day after this post was written – because I can’t even make this stuff up! Super Tall Guy in the back of the van discussing a scab that just came off his knee and how blood tastes like metal. Next thing I know, I hear, “Try it, Mr. Ornery. Did you like it?” “Whoa!! Wait!!” I exclaim, “Did you just give Mr. Ornery a taste of your blood?!?” “But Mom….I dabbed it on the end of the coffee stirrer to give it to him.” “Hm, yum.”
I’m silent. I really can’t make this stuff up….nor do I have any ability to predict their next disgusting move. Lord, help me.
My stress levels are now elevated from just reading this post!
Wait until yours are a little older!
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