Wednesday, October 21, 2009

What's the magic word...? (It isn't what you think...)

It's been one of those long afternoons. The kids are on each others' nerves, but somehow, no matter how many times I split them up, they keep ending up in the same room, usually in a dog pile. It's the noise that gets me in the witching hour. One decibel over a certain threshold and I lose it. (Don't even ask me how I felt yesterday when I suspected a secret poop had taken place courtesy of Lucas. I opened the door to reveal the nasty the same time as the door spread the offending [soft] turd across the ENTIRE floor...grrr)

We are all kicking around our little townhouse, all a bit on edge. I hear Lukey in the fridge and something crashes out onto the floor. My teeth clench. I don't think I can hear him close the door. What the...? He trots in the room with a yogurt and starts to open it on the carpet. C'MON! I grab it out of his hands and walk back to the kitchen where all the stuff that fell out of the fridge is on the floor, with the fridge open. I launch into lecture mode: "Lucas, you cannot...blah, blah,, you didn't even ask if you could have yogurt and we're about to have dinner." He looks at me (with some disdain) and says, "Can I have a yogurt?" Blood pressure rises. I spit out, "You are missing the most important word in that question, Lucas!"

"Oh, okay. Can I have a yogurt...package?"

I laughed. Things have been pretty good since then.

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