Miss Chatterbox, on the other hand, has taken up the position of Lead Household Pony. Yep, you heard me. Pony. She spends all day, every day, galloping around on all fours, neighing, laying in horse like positions, and begging me to let her eat on the floor. I may or may not be guilty of serving her "hay" and "harnessing" a laundry basket to her to expedite the cleanup process. What? I'm killing two birds with one stone, here! Learn from me, People.
Anyway, back to the Destructicon.
|A Destructicon cleverly disguised as a the birthday girl. But you can always identify one by the mess following in their wake.|
The Bun chooses the most inopportune moments to wreak havoc. Case and point. A couple of days ago, Squeaker treated me to a particularly juicy blowout. While I was two hands deep in a sink bath, The Bun stealthily moved in and showed me that not only did she know how to open both the baby gate and fridge, but that she wanted to help too, and was gonna shine the cabinets for me...with butter.
Sidenote - What is it about my kids and butter, damn it!! That crap is hard to clean off! Even after a bleaching, I'm pretty sure I could still use those doors as ice skates!
And it doesn't end there. Nope. We now play the "guess what I flushed today" game. Daily. Me and that plunger are tight, man. If this motherhood thing doesn't work out, I could always get a job as a plumber. I'd totally fit in. I make a plumber's crack look good, baby.
What? Don't judge, yo. I'm only functioning now by the grace of red bulls, coffee, and the crusts off my kid's grilled cheeses.
One of these days I'll get the hang of this whole parenting thing. Probably around the time they go to college and move out.
I'll leave you with the favorite blessing of cops everywhere. May your coffee not burn your tongue and donuts not be stale. Peace.