As a mother, sometimes you have to pretend not to see stuff in order to keep your sanity. I’m not talking major issues involving knives, fire and cell phones dangling over bubble baths. But after telling your child 20,000 times in one day “Do not splash the water on the floor” or “Don’t throw clothes down the stairs” or “Don’t feed the dog your lollypop then lick it yourself” it comes down to being a star disciplinarian or maintaining your mental faculties.
Now, in truth, 99% of the time I’m on it. I don’t want spoiled brats. I don’t want my kids not invited for play dates because they spit in the cat dish. But tonite? I just want to bask in the afterglow of a nice in-law dinner. I want to feel the pleasant sugar high of one too many Mothers pink and white animal cookies running their course through my system. (Damn those things are taaaasty…and how can anything so pastel and crunchy and happy be bad for you?) I hear what may be a toilet lid clanging… or puzzle pieces being thrown… or worse case puzzles being thrown in the toilet… but I don’t see Rex jumping up from his “fix the stereo receiver project” to make a show of parental concern.
However, NOW? I gotta go.
Clink clink clank clank bonk bonk look at the mooooooooonsters go over the stairwell CRAAAAAASH?