The Non-Slumber Party
Because I am a glutton for punishment, I allowed the boys' twin-friends spend the night. All five boys sat up and watched the television showing of a Harry Potter movie. They ate an entire half-gallon of ice cream. Then they asked for popcorn. And my boys dispensed pop to everyone.
YoungestBoy spent a great deal of time rolling on the floor and annoying the bigger boys. The visiting boys are loud, so LOUD that my boys seem sedate in comparison. First one visiting boy, then the other stuck his thumb in his mouth and then popped it out, making a suction sound. Pop! Slurp! Pop! Slurp! If my boys had been doing that, I would have ordered them to stop using my most irritated voice.
Then from my desk where I sat for three solid hours bringing Quicken up to date (I have ignored it since September), I heard, "Hey! You spilled it!" In a single bound, I leapt across the room to find a spilled glass of pop on my carpet. Granted, my carpet is in dire need of shampooing, but still!
The visiting twin sat placidly as a cow chewing cud as I stomped away for a towel to soak it up. I said to my boys, "Spring into action! Come on! Clean this up!" and they seemed to suffer from hearing loss and said only, "It's not my pop."
While I finished mopping up the spill, I said, "Would your mother let you put a glass of pop on your floor?" I was thinking of her brand-new gleaming hardwood floors, her expensive leather furniture, her antiques. He said, "Well, if there is no table."
And then, I saw that the twin brother had also spilled his glass and was also sitting mutely, catatonically, perfectly still, except for the hand bringing popcorn to his mouth while the pop became one with the carpet.
ARRGH! That's my pirate sound, saved for especially aggravating moments. I couldn't believe that the boys just sat and let their pop soak into the carpet.
Well.
I finished balancing my checkbook at 11 p.m. and sent the kids to bed. It's past 12:30 a.m. now and I still hear whispering and giggling and movement. And in the morning, somehow I have to get us all to church by 9:45 a.m.
I'm going to pretend that they are all sleeping and go upstairs. If I'm lucky, they won't get up at 6:00 a.m. like they did last time they stayed over.
YoungestBoy spent a great deal of time rolling on the floor and annoying the bigger boys. The visiting boys are loud, so LOUD that my boys seem sedate in comparison. First one visiting boy, then the other stuck his thumb in his mouth and then popped it out, making a suction sound. Pop! Slurp! Pop! Slurp! If my boys had been doing that, I would have ordered them to stop using my most irritated voice.
Then from my desk where I sat for three solid hours bringing Quicken up to date (I have ignored it since September), I heard, "Hey! You spilled it!" In a single bound, I leapt across the room to find a spilled glass of pop on my carpet. Granted, my carpet is in dire need of shampooing, but still!
The visiting twin sat placidly as a cow chewing cud as I stomped away for a towel to soak it up. I said to my boys, "Spring into action! Come on! Clean this up!" and they seemed to suffer from hearing loss and said only, "It's not my pop."
While I finished mopping up the spill, I said, "Would your mother let you put a glass of pop on your floor?" I was thinking of her brand-new gleaming hardwood floors, her expensive leather furniture, her antiques. He said, "Well, if there is no table."
And then, I saw that the twin brother had also spilled his glass and was also sitting mutely, catatonically, perfectly still, except for the hand bringing popcorn to his mouth while the pop became one with the carpet.
ARRGH! That's my pirate sound, saved for especially aggravating moments. I couldn't believe that the boys just sat and let their pop soak into the carpet.
Well.
I finished balancing my checkbook at 11 p.m. and sent the kids to bed. It's past 12:30 a.m. now and I still hear whispering and giggling and movement. And in the morning, somehow I have to get us all to church by 9:45 a.m.
I'm going to pretend that they are all sleeping and go upstairs. If I'm lucky, they won't get up at 6:00 a.m. like they did last time they stayed over.
posted by Melodee at Sunday, November 14, 2004
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