Escapee
Often these days, I can be found typing away at my computer, oblivious to the goings on around me. That means that sometimes kids draw on my walls with crayon, pile all the toys in the whole house on somebody's bed, dump an entire bottle of toilet cleaner into the bathtub, or on a sunny day when I leave the back door open, go outside without my knowlege or consent.
I was typing away the other day, pondering the quiet. Quiet is not a good thing. Quiet is an evil, evil thing in my house. Suddenly alarmed, I sprang from my chair and started hollering for my kids. Beebs was playing alone in the playroom. A quiet Munchkee and Doodimus is even worse than a quiet trio of children. Far worse, because Beebs is old enough now to maintain some level of control, or at least tattle on everyone if something goes wrong. But Munchkee and Doodimus will silently rain down destruction and nobody would be the wiser until they actual stepped in a pile of doody with stocking feet or found Doodimus wrapped head to toe like a mummy in toilet paper.
I asked Beebs to run upstairs and look for the kids as I headed out the front door. Satisfied that they weren't in the road, I headed around back. Relieved, I walked up to Doodimus playing in the sandbox. Granted, he was butt naked but he was alive and well. Okay, maybe not completely "well" as he had a mouth full of sand that he was trying diligently to remove with one incredibly sandy, urine soaked little hand.
Doodimus has been pooping sand for two days. That can't be comfortable. Plus, he ate sand that was marinated in his own pee. That's pretty darn gross.
Oh and Munchkee was fine too. She was sitting quietly by, holding Doodimus' diaper.
I was typing away the other day, pondering the quiet. Quiet is not a good thing. Quiet is an evil, evil thing in my house. Suddenly alarmed, I sprang from my chair and started hollering for my kids. Beebs was playing alone in the playroom. A quiet Munchkee and Doodimus is even worse than a quiet trio of children. Far worse, because Beebs is old enough now to maintain some level of control, or at least tattle on everyone if something goes wrong. But Munchkee and Doodimus will silently rain down destruction and nobody would be the wiser until they actual stepped in a pile of doody with stocking feet or found Doodimus wrapped head to toe like a mummy in toilet paper.
I asked Beebs to run upstairs and look for the kids as I headed out the front door. Satisfied that they weren't in the road, I headed around back. Relieved, I walked up to Doodimus playing in the sandbox. Granted, he was butt naked but he was alive and well. Okay, maybe not completely "well" as he had a mouth full of sand that he was trying diligently to remove with one incredibly sandy, urine soaked little hand.
Doodimus has been pooping sand for two days. That can't be comfortable. Plus, he ate sand that was marinated in his own pee. That's pretty darn gross.
Oh and Munchkee was fine too. She was sitting quietly by, holding Doodimus' diaper.