Boys-R-Us

'Security - we have two suspects, potentially dangerous, fleeing the scene on what appears to be tractors...'

I had the brilliant idea today of taking the boys somewhere fun, free, and protected from the dark clouds promising rain at any moment. First of all, fun for who? Second, what the hell was I thinking with 'free' at a toy store? Third, it did not rain - the clouds parted and the sun came out. Thanks, Mr. Sunshine - why don't you go burn yourself?

We had fun anyway, if you take me out of the equation. The boys raced around like a bunch of kids let loose in a toy story. Yes, that was intentional.

I thought I said the word 'no' quite often enough during a normal day with the boys. At a toy store, you can take that figure and multiple it by the number of times you get 'that look' from other parents where they suggest with their eyes that your kids might be a little out of control. Then double it and you have half of the number of times I said 'no' today. I never said that math would not be a part of reading this blog.

Peter kept running around the store with a plastic pistol telling people to 'Freak or I will shoot!'I think little Einstein meant 'freeze', but he was too busy making other shoppers get their freak on for me to ask him.

Our shopping frenzy obviously worked up an appetite and for dinner the Peter & David gang chowed down. With a belly full of cooked food, I thought the boys were sure to go to sleep without any problems. Silly me and my thoughts.

I went through the entire bedtime routine and at the end, the boys were more or less asleep. As it turned out for David, it was less, not more. I was in the living room massaging Angie's back or feeding her grapes or some other really awesome husbandy thing to do when I heard a blood curdling scream. My cat-like reflexes kicked in and I raced into their bedroom.

I picked up on two things straightaway. First, Peter was screaming his head off. Ok, the yelling was obvious from a block away, but at least the who was clarified. The second thing I picked up on was a little more subtle. It was David, whispering over and over 'Peter, there's a spider in your bed...there's a spider in your bed...'

I don't know what is funnier - the fact that David is already tormenting Peter or that Peter believes anything that David says. Given those choices, though, it is funny either way. I certainly cracked up. Peter did not.

I finally got Peter calmed down and reassured him that there were no spiders in his bed. Next, I yelled at David to shut his instigator and get some sleep. As I waited for the snoring sounds which is normally my cue to leave, I thought about my sisters. Man, I tormented the hell out of them, so I can certainly see where David might get it. I never tried the whole 'there's a spider in your bed...' angle, though. I'll have to keep that in mind next time they visit...
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1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When I went with you to the playgroup with my mommy.
David: When I lola lola lola.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When we went to playgroup and we couldn't stay there 'cause I wanted to play the computer but other kids wanted to play computer too and I was standing there saying nothing all the time and I turned around and this boy said there said hi to this kid, but it was a lady, and she just - her name was Anna - then I was just standing there again and the boy was playing computer and then I couldn't play.
David: When Gizma scratch me.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To play the lion game.
David: Dora dora please.

The Wash & Tickle

We went to the swimming pool today and let me just state up front that these are not my feet. You can tell this by the fact that the ones shown here have hair. Yes, that can be a touchy subject with me so why don't you just shut the hell up and go away?

I am pretty sure that Clarice does not let her legs go au natural, so these lovely drumsticks must belong to Brian, Dalia's hairy dad. For the sake of Dalia's fingers, I hope the sequence of their odd little pedicure was to wash first, then tickle.

Sticking with today's theme of 'weird things to do with feet', David decided to stomp his stinky digits into a plate of french fries we had ordered for the kids with the original intention of actually eating them.

I have to say that cleaning ketchup, mayo and mashed up potatoes from between your child's toes is somehow more disgusting than changing a really gross diaper. That probably has to do with becoming desensitized to the ickiness of diapers after having changed so many, but I really don't care. Yuck, David. Yuck. And I have to save one yuck for Peter, who still wanted to eat the french fries after David two-stepped all over the innocent spuds. Yuck.

What David lacked in french fry eating etiquette he made up for in what was either bravery or stupidity; I'm not quite sure which one yet, but the boy has absolutely no fear of water. Peter and Dalia obviously value life and were not having any part of the slide at the deep end of the pool. David, on the other foot, raced for the deep end and jumped in, feet first.

After a little mouth-to-mouth and chest pumping, David wanted to tackle the slide. I stayed in the deep end and caught him as he slid down. On the fifth or sixth time, though, David did not come down. I started to get nervous and climbed out to check if he was still waiting in line for the slide. He was not. Shit.

I started to freak out, but I quickly spotted him climbing the ladder to the mega super-slide next to the high-dive pool. This is the slide that has a big sign at the front of the line warning that you must be at least NINE to go on it. Thanks, retarded people in line who let my two year old climb halfway up the ladder.

Normally, me telling David not to do something only means he will giggle and do it quickly. I think this time, even he realized he may have gone a little too far. When I screamed at him to get down, he still giggled, but he did reluctantly make his way back down the ladder.

When David's potato smashing feet hit the ground, I was mixed with feelings of relief and an urge to stick my foot somewhere even grosser than in a plate of french fries.
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1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When we go to the swimming and Dalia was there.
David: I go'ed to the swimmer pool.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When David said by his Ladder Talk that Gizma scratch him - that is not funny because Gizma did not scratch him today - I know that. He always says that.
David: When I cry and Gizma scratch me.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To go with you to dress up like superman.
David: When I play a game.

Throw another shoe on the barbie

SpongeBob has a spatula, so I thought I would score some very unneeded cool points with the kids if I took over as Le Chef. What SpongeBob fails to tell everyone, though, is how much damn smoke can come from even the tiniest of grills. I would hate to see the lungs on that freaky little sponge.

Today I invited my team over for a well-deserved BBQ. Peter helped me set up the tables, which pretty much meant he sat on the bench eating candy and watching me build everything. At least he is not old enough to make any wise-ass comments. Yet.

David helped out by taking an early nap. Enough said.

Angie helped by going to pick up some more ice because my dumb ass only bought enough ice to cool approximately two cans of soda before melting away. I blame that one on global warming. That and being a moron.

Gizma didn't really help, but she did try to eat her own tail for almost an hour, which I found immensely amusing.

The BBQ itself went great. Hamburgers, hot dogs, chicken and lamb steaks with side dishes galore. With all that food, I was not surprised at all when Peter and David ate candy for dinner and sodas for dessert. I was surprised, though, when Peter lost his shoes. How the hell can you lose your shoes? In case anyone wants an answer to that rhetorical question, ask Peter - he's the little blond kid running around barefoot.

Dalia stopped by as the party was winding down. Not surprising, her arrival had just the opposite effect with Peter and David, who started winding up again. Needless to say, putting the boys to bed was not easy. I compare it to putting a bag over your head and trying to catch a couple of greased pigs who, after being caught, find it absolutely hilarious that you have them pinned to the bed in a full nelson screaming at them to GO TO SLEEP NOW! For anyone wanting to know - this technique does not work.

As I disappeared to get the duct tape and sleeping pills, the boys both racked out big time; I'm talking major snores that could even compete with Angie. Peter's feet were sticking out as I tucked him in. As I covered his toes, I noticed the grass stains, cuts and scrapes that covered the bottom of his feet. Jesus! Someone should put some shoes on that kid! Oh, yeah, that's right...
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[David's head was spinning around too fast to concentrate on Ladder Talk]
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: Was when I had with you and your work friends a party.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When I could go so fast over the thistles.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To play Hippo Flip.