I haven't visited Temple Illuminatus much this year, but Thursday, I did. I happened to see an old blog post I put up there, and it really made me laugh. Not just because it was funny (especially now that I'm looking back on it), but also because the more things change, the more they stay the same in my household. I thought I'd share, especially since somehow, this week's most common search term on my stats list is "my husband's underwear".
It's been an absurd kind of week. From last Friday's cartoon argument to yesterday's underwear fiasco, I feel like I am a cartoon character. I thought I'd share, since I am certain the Universe is doing this on purpose as a didactic exercise. Feel free to laugh, comment or interpret the Universe's message.
Driving home from the ritual child pick up, my four year old pipes up with a question. Here's the transcript-
Aiden: Mommy, butt screams (his phrase for flatulence) funny?
Me: No, Aiden, butt screams are not funny.
Aiden: YES! YES!
(This goes on a while with my older son watching the argument like a tennis match for about five minutes until I am pulling the car into the busy parking lot of our apartment complex and a bit distracted.)
Aiden (laughing hysterically and triumphantly): You said yes! Butt screams funny!
Me: Damn it! No more Bugs Bunny for you.
The kids got into trouble and were sent to their room to clean it up. Aiden comes to complain to my husband and I that he is too tired to clean.
Aiden: My cleaning batteries are dead.
My husband: Aiden, go work on your room.
Aiden: Daddy, my batteries...
Me (pretending to hold batteries in my hand): Here's new cleaning batteries. Now go.
Aiden: I can't put batteries in myself!
Me: Where do they go?
Aiden (pointing to his behind): In here.
I discovered Aiden has used a can opener (I had wondered where in Hades that had gotten off to) to drill a hole through his bedroom wall. It is straight, and perfectly round. I admit to being both impressed and annoyed.
Gavin just shrugged his shoulders and pointed out that at least Aiden didn't get through the second layer of drywall into my room.
After dropping the kid off at school, doing the grocery shopping and dealing with Aiden's shop lifting (so embarrassed),
I get home, take off my shoes and pick a book. Then the school secretary calls. My older son hurt his foot, is limping badly, and needs picked up. However, neither her nor my son can adequately explain how he hurt himself. He spends the rest of the day laying on the floor with his foot propped up on the laundry and demanding things. I spend the rest of the day trying to keep his younger brother from jumping on his prone figure.
Gavin, my older son, announces that henceforth he will only obey the rules he makes and that his brother needs to be sent back and exchanged for a different one. I have no idea what set him off.
Aiden, on the other hand, took several different colors of yarn from my basket and recreated the Gordian Knot. I spent two hours untangling it.
After a reasonably absurdity free day, all hell broke loose when my husband walked in the door. I'm sitting on the bed in my pajamas with wet hair, talking to my mom on the phone (telling her about all the ways Aiden has tortured me this week, while she laughs and says "That's the sort of stuff you used to do, without all the jumping"). My husband announces that I need to get dressed. The customer car he drove home for a road test needs to be towed because half the brakes aren't working, it won't accelerate, and he's not sure he can get a tow truck to pick it up anytime soon. Oh yeah, and it doesn't lock. (My husband works on insanely expensive cars.)
So, I get dressed, while still talking to my mom, but because I need to do laundry, I have no underwear. My mom, ever so helpful, laughs and says "just turn a dirty pair inside out". My reaction: "EEEeeeewwwwwwww! You are not any help. I'll find a pair of Colin's." My mom (still helpful) just laughs harder. I finally get fully dressed, slip my shoes on (still talking to Mom, the unhelpful traitor) and walk into the living room arguing with her about my sanity (she says I'm not crazy, just a mom. I say I've completely lost it and start listing the evidence). Just as I get to the "and I'm wearing my husband's underwear!" part, I realize, my dear husband is standing there, on the phone with one of his coworkers, organizing a tow truck. Needless to say, I was a bit embarrassed, and the kids and my mom were laughing like crazed hyenas.
I feel certain that all of this absurdity, which is well above and beyond the usual level of crazy in my life, has a point. I just haven't figured it out yet. Is this a lesson in laughing at oneself? Punishment? Or am I just really entertaining for the Universe when I react to these things?