This entry is called Why my children booby trap the house. Roger- get your head out of the gutter, this has nothing to do with boobies. It has to do with traps.
It started out very subtle. A toy here. A wrapper there. Stuff pulled out from under the bed (yes-ok, we have stuff under our bed- I know it should have a proper home, but sometimes under the bed is the perfect spot. But I digress...) so I couldn't get said child IN the bed without making noise. (Did y'all ever hear that the artist that I will ALWAYS call Prince used to crumple up newspapers and scatter them around his bedoom so nobody would sneak in on him?- again, I digress. Seeing a pattern here people? It's hard for me to stay on topic. I'm like a goldfish. And forget about it if I see GLITTER! oooohhhh... glitter....Any-who...) I noticed it mostly with Max. He'd have barbed wire (ok, I can also stretch the truth a bit from time to time) in front of his crib. Well, maybe it was just an action figure or a car but the fleshy side of my big foot will swear under oath that it felt like barbed wire. The only time I noticed it was at naptime or bed time. Until today.
Today I was tag teamed. I was trying to wash dishes and be a good housewife (I'm still new to this whole housewife thing so I'm still trying to figure out how to get it all done early and have the rest of the day for my bon-bons) when I noticed a shuffle shuffle behind me. Do we have a mouse? Noooooo... we have a booby trapper. The shuffle shuffle was thing two PULLING OUT THE OVEN DRAWER. A. How does he know we have an oven drawer. B. I forgot we had one. C. You can tell I don't use that junk in there. I think he planned on me not noticing, falling over backwards all cartoon style so he and thing 1 could play all day without supervision. Sure, I get it kid- me not dolling out the proper amount of cookies, making you sit on your bottom and not letting you CLIMB ON EVERYTHING so you bust your head open is kind of a drag. But really- pulling the old backwards trip thing. Not going to work. Today anyway.
It's a wonder I was even allowed to start cleaning because thing 2 booby trapped the sink. (Please don't say something snarky like- well while you are at it wipe down that dirty dishwasher- I try, it just keeps little finger prints. Didn't your mama ever tell you if you can't say something nice don't say anything at all? Geesh. You will miss me when I'm in jail and you will probably feel guilty for judging my finger-printy dishwasher. Jerk.