"Please sit quietly and eat. Mommy will be in the bathroom for a few minutes."
"Oh... So you can 'pee alone'?" asked Thumbelina (age 7) with one eyebrow raised.
"As a matter of fact, yes." That child is far too observant. I glared at them all and stomped down the hall. To my bedroom, where I laid down on my bed in the shady quiet. Just one moment of peace. And no b*tching. That's all I wanted. Just one minute. Then the screaming started. Not screaming because something was wrong, just screaming to see who could scream the loudest. It's -- of course -- their favorite game.
It went like this: blood curdling scream. Followed by hysterical giggling. Then a slightly louder scream. Then giggling escalating into uncontrollable cackling. Pause. Not to be outdone, the baby screams like a air raid siren. Then came the sound of small children falling on the floor and rolling around because they are laughing so hard. I wouldn't be surprised if one of them peed themselves. Beceause it is so much fun to scream.Before I can get down the hall to start busting heads, I heard Thumbelina say the following:
"Wait! We have to stop screaming right now. Someone is going to call the police." (Awed silence.) "And then they'll come and arrest Mommy. And then how will we eat? Or go to the pool? They'll probably take us to the orphanage. And you know what happens there?" (More awed silence. Also feared anticipation at what comes next.) "It's actually pretty exciting, because you don't who in the world will adopt us! Maybe a Queen... Or a movie star... (nods at her brother) or a Jedi... I kind of hope it's a Queen, though. I'm sick of being a commoner."
So am I.
The. End.
(c)Herding Turtles, Inc. 2009 - 2010
