i wake up this morning. the other side of the house is quiet – always a bad sign. i go into 10yo’s room to find no kids, but a bare mattress that is suspiciously lumpy. i proceed to sit on it, which of course causes squealing.
fast forward to 10 minutes later, i hear yelling from the room. both are under the mattress but on top of the boxspring.
10yo: she befouled my mattress!!!!!!!
7yo [laughing hysterically]: that means i passed gas on it. [both crack up again]
me:…. [closes door and walks away pretending that these people aren’t related to me]
p.s. did i mention that 7yo stole one of my lipsticks and put it on, but since she’s been playing, it is smeared all over her face and she looks like the joker or some other demented clown? yeah, that too.
me [to 7yo]: it’s bedtime.
7yo: I WILL NOW LEAVE THE ROOM IN AN EXTREMELY WEIRD WAY. [wiggles, hops, jumps, spins, dances, tumbles out the door with a bizarre look on her face]
whereupon daddy and i look at each other, shake our heads and start laughing.
i come out of the bathroom. both kids are snickering. i look around suspiciously but see nothing. 9yo whispers to 7yo and tries to get her to tell me something. 7yo refuses.
9yo: 7yo said you said she could use your labeler.
me: um, no, i didn’t. [narrows eyes at them] what did you do?
9yo: well, we made some labels….. [laughing behind her hand]
7yo: i typed in “bum” and made a label to stick on my bum!!! [giggling crazily and turning around to show me her bum]
9yo: and then we typed in poopy and pee……. [cracking up and showing me labels]
me: stop. just stop. now. [drops head sadly]
this is clearly daddy’s fault, as they KNOW i don’t want to hear about bums or toilets or whatever. maybe i should just be happy they are organizing?
when going in to tidy up the kids’ bathroom before bed, daddy noticed that 7yo had written this on the bathroom wall:
[read: Darkness riseing over us and the city. “ahaha”hahahaha!]
when asked about it and where it came from (we were hoping from a show or book), she said she just thought it up and giggled hysterically.
hold me. i’m afraid.
so today i come home after a very long, seriously awful day and go looking for my monkeys. 6yo is in the bathroom. when i go in to say hi, she announces that she has gone no. 2 and needs help wiping. this completes my day.
so i have barely woken up and am in the bathroom. the kids have spent most of the weekend playing “clubhouse” in our closet. (yes, the same closet that the 9yo ran away to live in. clearly our closet is fascinating beyond what i can see.) i sit down and then i hear CRASH from the closet. half naked, i jump up and throw open the door in time to see the back wire rack shelving that 1/3 of our clothes are on has come out of the wall and nearly landed on the kids. 9yo is crying about her toe, but 6yo is relatively calm. apparently 9yo was trying to climb up on a bench/storage box we have in there and held onto the rack to pull her 65+ lb self up on it. thankfully no one was hurt, but our closet is wrecked and daddy – who has done an awesome job of taking care of the kids while i was out of town – now has to spend the day fixing the rack.
so how was YOUR morning? *sigh*
6yo: [knocks on door to the bathroom I am in and then walks in] hi.
6yo: [turns around, shows me her bum and scratches it]
me: *sigh* go away.
6yo: [repeats actions]
me: I don’t want to see you scratch your bum. Get out. [smacks her bum]
6yo: no, not until you say butt.
me: no. go away.
me: no. get out.
me: NO. get. out.
6yo: [huff at me then storms out of the bathroom, slamming the door]
me: [shaking head, but thinking] I win