Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Dripping From the Ceiling Like Rain.



(A perfect shot on timer-- A Christmas Eve Miracle.)

I had a brownie for breakfast. And my frown lines look deeper today... You'd think being the mother that I am in charge, that I have control over most things that happen in my home. That I can prevent disaster by paying more attention. No. No, I cannot.

I'm not naming any names but there are two people that live in my house that are total mobsters. They will steal your money and laugh as they run away. They will eat your soul for brunch. And they have the cutest button noses little grey-green eyes that constantly demand adoration. That's the problem.

They are going through a phase at 5 and 3 years old, it's a destructional partnership. A marriage of mayhem and wild ideas. Grace and Ruby went through the same thing and I wrote about it here. It was in early 2008 when I was pregnant with Lillie and their escapades involved urine and food messes, clothing always optional.

Last night I had a couple girlfriends over to chat and have some good laughs since Jake was out of town. Before they arrived, the girls were in their bedtime routine. The big girls were practicing their guitars while the little ones were supposed to be brushing teeth. I go upstairs to check on them and the bathroom door is locked. Knock knock knock, open up, it's Mommy!

I heard a flurry of scrambling and they opened up. Oh, the humanity... They were both soaking wet, there was an inch of water on the floor, all 8 toothbrushes were strewn all over the countertop, toothpaste tubes were opened and lying in the soapy water dripping from the counters, the toilet seat was covered with water, the soap container was empty and there was water and soap DRIPPING FROM THE CEILING LIKE RAIN.

I started shriek-talking.

After the initial outburst, I asked them what they were doing, searching for some sort of purpose. They said they were putting water from the sink into the toilet. Like it's a thing. Like other people do it. Like it makes sense. As I was talking, they put their little hands to their mouth to hide their smiles. It was then I knew I didn't have a chance. I sternly sent the laughing hyenas to get themselves clothed.

Ruby yelled downstairs later, "My toothbrush tastes like soap!". I had no comeback, no answer. I sort of pursed my lips and let my eyes flutter closed and slowly inhaled.

My friends left around 10. I went upstairs, knowing full-well that all the girls were still awake. Sleeping is never their priority. I popped my head in their door way to see Tada's bed completely stripped. All the blankets and pillows on the floor, sheets all the way off, bed safety guard loosened and removed and leaning up against the wall. Tada had taken her jammies off. And there they were, playing princess dolls in the corner of the room while time stood still, 28,000 baby dolls laying lifeless on the floor in a sea of rubble.

I put Tada's bed back together muttering under my breath, "what were you thinking", or "why would you do this", or another variation of incredulity, all while nobody listened.

The other day I knocked on their bedroom door which was stuck shut, in which they should have been having sister playtime. The smell of urine hit me right away. "WHAT DID YOU DO??", I managed. "Tada peed", "No, LILLIE PEED!". The finger pointing went on while I surveyed: Two naked girls, a dark spot on the carpet, and toys and clothes everywhere. The first thing I needed to figure out was wear the second dark spot was... Tada revealed a pile of clothing and when she lifted it up, said "here it is! I needed to hide it". Second spot located. I found other damp clothing around the room and had no idea what got peed on and what didn't, so had to wash it all.

Asked, "why would you guys pee on the floor when the bathroom is like 3 feet away?". Nothin'. Blank stares. I think someone eked out, "Cause we didn't want to stop playing".

And did I mention we have two iPads and the screens are both smashed? I'll give you two guesses.

(Can you spot picture-wrecker extraordinaire?)