Friday, May 14, 2010

Every Braggart Shall Be Found an Ass..

Standing Tall

Shakespeare said it. It's true. Yesterday I bragged about mah babee and his laundry prowess.


Well. We were getting set to go the park, and the boys decided to take their scooters to ride. They retrieved them from the back porch while I got the dogs settled into their crate. When I came back downstairs, they were in the dining room, fighting over which scooter belonged to which boy. You know - the exact same scooters that we bought on the exact same day and that have been ridden the exact number of times.


Anyway, I told them to sort it out, and I walked in the kitchen, where the back door was still standing wide open. So I started to shut it and looked out at the back porch.

Which was covered in buckets, sand and seashells. And shovels.

Because when they got out the scooters they knocked the buckets over and dragged them out onto the patio.

And then walked into the house, leaving the backdoor open, where the memory of that bucket-and-seashell-and-sand-strewing event flew right out the door and straight up into space, never to be heard from again.

And thus, as I sent them out to clean up their mess, and they looked at me as if I were a crazy person, was all order restored to our household.

And by order, of course...I mean disorder. And chaos, utter confusion, and a wee bit of entropy.

Your kids do things like this, right? Please tell me they do. You can feel free to comment with specific cases so I'll feel better. Thank you.