Mice, Knives and Pain

My last post was all about how boring things have been around here. That post was a mistake. Not the information in that post. That was true. It was starting to get boring, but having the hubris to put how boring things have gotten in print? That was a mistake.

The what I now view as normalcy started almost immediately after hitting the publish button on that last post with the mouse incident:

It’s starting to get cold outside, we live in an old house and sometimes field mice get in to escape the elements, usually just to be toyed with and then brutally murdered by our cat, Swirly Rainbowtron Catinator. Yes that’s her actual name. Sometimes Swirly falls a little short on the murder part and leaves these stunned mice on the kitchen floor. This how early one morning while getting the older boys ready for school I hear, “Daddy! The baby is making a mouse swim!”

… “What?”

“He has a mouse! And a glass of water! And he’s putting them together! Mouses don’t seem to swim good Daddy!”

“Mice, buddy. Mice don’t seem to swim well…”

Then there was the incident where I heard Demon Spawn screaming for me to come and help him and I came in to find that the baby had cornered him on the couch by repeatedly thrusting a steak knife (a steak knife I had never seen before and am convinced that the baby lifted from a restaurant and had been hiding on his person prison style) at him and giggling insanely.

Also the baby, who weighs more than the four year old, has decided cuddling involves headbutts to face.

So things have gotten back to normal around here.

I guess that teaches me to complain about being bored.


Apartment Sitting With Kids

We had to find a broom and mop before we even made it to the bedroom.

And it was a one bedroom apartment.

In Manhattan.

Books and trinkets were pulled off of the shelves. Closets were rummaged through. Cats were chased, caught, squeezed and tasted. Piano keys were beaten in an attempt to make what the children refered to as “music”. Also they forgot how to speak so resorted to screaming all their words. An entire box of donuts was reduced to crumbs and scattered across the floor. The baby tried to clean the wall with lox. Sand from playgrounds was dumped out of shoes directly onto the floor. The baby took daily baths in the cats’ water bowl. And he ate some of their food.

We cleaned. We left.

I laughed a lot at the text my wife got a day later: Wow! The place is so neat and tidy! Best house guests EVER!!!

Yep, that’s us. Best house guests ever…