Saturday, February 13, 2010

It's "A DOUBLE I-Told-You-So" or "The 3-day Valentine's Weekend that lasted 1 hour**" or "Y Me?"

Okay, so I can't figure out what to call this post--any ideas? Allow me to share with you my weekend thus far, which is only composed of about twelve hours, but was ruined in one. It all started about a year ago when Greg and I realized Kindsay's bed had the BEST mattress in the house--perfect nap-taking bed. The room gets super dark, the temperature is always perfect, and the bed is soft soft soft. Greg, who is not one to take naps lightly (and I mean that in both senses), would take naps in her room only to be disturbed by the bursting in of children at random times about almost nothing. This is one of two things that will take hold of Greg's temper and flare it right up. The other has to do with his PS3, but I'm not even going to glamorize that dumb thing so 'nuff said. ANYWAY--Bottom line: Greg loves his naps, loves Kindsay's room, hates the constant barging in and disruption of said naps, so what does he do? I come home one day to find a knob with a lock on her door. Greg, not being a sophisticated domestic-type, doesn't get a knob with a push-button lock, he gets one with a key. Yes, a real toothy-edged key. One key might I add. I told him then and there--that key is going to get lost and Kindsay WILL lock the door from the outside and THEN what? Ignore, ignore, nap, ignore, nap, get the idea. Well, an hour into my 3-day weekend and "what's this? Kindsay's door is locked and she's in the garage? what's that? You say the key is inside her backpack which is inside her room?" Needless to say I spent the entire night trying everything on Google to get that dumb thing open, only to go to bed with raw hands and a kink in my neck. Still locked. Greg wasn't too upset...until I told him I was going to sleep alone in Rebekah's room until the door gets opened--so there he was in front of the door trying my tried-and-not-true Google methods, only to find himself frustrated and yelling at Kindsay "why? why? why?" I pulled him out of the room to which she was banished (the boys'), I remember a child psychologist saying never ask a child "why" because--they don't know why! So now I'm in Rebekah's room and her wall lines up with the garage-and what's on the other side of the wall but Kindsay's mice...2 have run away, we're thinking the other (female) ran off the men once her babies were born (10--yes 10), so behind me is one mouse mama and her ten babies...Wal Mart take me away.
I wake up this morning, having slept very little that night because 1) I have trouble sleeping period 2) I am a scaredy cat and imagine Freddy Kruger TO THIS DAY is still in my closet AND (all 3 apply) 3) I hear Kindsay talking to herself in the garage in panic. I hear the words "mouse" "dead" "trouble" "I'm in"...I add it all up (because I'm a mathmatician) and conclude that she has killed a mouse. I get up to tell Greg who is a lone man in our room, and he rolls over commenting about not believing that was really the case. I braved it alone--out to the garage I go...and there's Kindsay, holding a baby, which isn't pink anymore but a small little bundle of fur, and she's distraught. She sees me and starts in on her self-punishment "Oh, I shouldn't have done this, why do I have mice? I shouldn't have mice! We need to sell them, I think it's time we sell them or take them back or something...oh I shouldn't have done this!" What did you do, Kindsay? Apparently, in an effort to feed the baby, Kindsay stuck a CRAZY STRAW down the baby's throat. At that point it was still alive but she was anticipating its death as its little legs kicked around. Then I went back to Greg with a full report at which time he leaped out of bed (he really loves those mice babies). He tried to assess the damage, but Kindsay had stuck it back in the baby pile so he didn't know which one to pull out. He came back in the house "Kindsay! You are not allowed near those mice again! and you are grounded for a week!" Is this on top of the week you grounded her for locking herself out of her room? So, I have 2 'told you so' moments. I told Greg "don't put a key-lock knob on the door" AND "Kindsay can't have animals because she hurts them." and they happened within 10 hours of each other. Kindsay doesn't mean to hurt them, she just gets something in her head and goes for it without thinking about the possible consequences to her actions until after the damage is done. And her "ideas" are usually c-r-a-z-y let's not involve real lives, huh? No one listens to me. and now we're all in a foul mood. So which is it? "A Double I-told-you-so", "The 3-day Valentine's weekend that lasted 1 hour" or "Y Me?" ....or should it be "KINDSAY!!!!!!!!!" It's a good thing I love that man because this would send any other girl running out the door on Valentine's weekend.

1 comment:

Elena Loo said...

Hey Yvette. I just found your blog and had a good time reading it. Your venting and stories really made me laugh. I am totally jealous of the trip to Hawaii, but am glad I don't have a teenager yet. Here's looking to someday.