Friday, December 14, 2007

Confession time

It's 3:59 AM. I thought Dr. Pepper and I had a mutual understanding. I would drink it, and it would keep me awake during the day, enough to accomplish just enough to be useful. Well, he certainly went a little overboard this time, hence the early morning blog.

Now, to get a few things off my chest from tonight.

We have 5 children, as most of you know, and four of them sleep in one of the bedrooms in two sets of bunkbeds. Each night we go through this ritual of: Parents: "Good night guys, turn your lights out and NO TALKING"
Kids: Giggling and laughing "Did you guys here something?" "Nope." "Me neither." "Check this stuff out, it sounds like a REAL FART!"
*Loud obnoxious noise followed by peals of laughter*
The Baby: Knowing she's being left out of all the fun "I sweep wiff guys. Pweeeese! I sweep wiff guys."
Parents: "See, now you've gone and woken the baby! Now GET INTO BED AND KNOCK IT OFF!
Kids: "Shhhhhh. I think they heard us." "What now?" "Maybe we should lay down."
*Intense fits of laughter mixed with shhhhhh*
Parents: "Do you think that we can't hear that?! Well, we can hear every word, EVERY SINGLE WORD!" (okay, get ready for the part I will need to repent of later) "And even if we don't hear it, we have it all recorded on the hidden camera!"
*dead silence*
Dad: "Huh?" Mom: "Just go with me on this one."
*a few minutes pass*
Kid: "Mooooooooom."
Mom, entering kids room: "What. You guys are supposed to be asleep."
Kids: "What do you mean a hidden camera?"
Mom: "You know those cameras that are so small they can fit in a pin-sized hole, or a teddy bears eye? It can pick up the image of an entire room, even in pitch black, and it has remarkable sound quality."
Kids (thouroughly intrigued, scanning every inch of the room with their eyes, paying close attention to their stuffed animals): "You mean you're, like, watching us on a TV?"
Mom, knowing that she must answer carefully or they will hamm it up for the camera: "No, it's automatically downloaded onto a safedrive on the computer where we can access any specific time or date."
Kids, surprised that Mom knows anything about a computer: "Oooooooooh."
Mom: "Don't go looking for it either, because if you find it, it means you will have broken it, and that's a very expensive piece of equipment." (Yeah, like the cost of selling your soul for some much needed quiet time)
*10 minutes later*
Kids: "Mom. Would the light burn it up or catch it on fire?"
Kid: "Mom. I think Aidan found the camera and broke it!"
Mom: "No he didn't. If he had, a loud shrieking alarm would have gone off on the computer, summoning the local police department that our monitor had been tampered with. Now GO TO SLEEP!!"
*15 minutes pass, a little footy-pajamad boy slinks into the living room rubbing his eyes. He carefully approaches his Mom and whispers in her ear*
Kid: "Mom, I found the camera, but I didn't break it. I just wanted you to know that I know where it is and I won't touch it, that way if it gets broken, you'll know it wasn't me."
Mom: "Thanks sweetie. Good night."
Kid: "'Night."

So there it is. My confession. I'm not sufficiently humble yet to tell the truth, but I feel a little better getting it off of my chest with you. Now for the second one:

I woke up at 1:24 this morning, and my mind drifted to the refrigerator we have in our garage. In it contains a bowl of sugar cookie dough. Calling me....inviting me....tempting me. Some of you may, or may not know, that I have recently lost 55 lbs, so I was certain the beckoning came straight from the devil himself. I am proud to say that I resisted him. at 1:25 in the morning. At 3:31 in the morning, however, I gave in, went to the freezing cold garage and got me a handful of dough. Closing the fridge, I turned around and realized that if this wasn't enough and I wanted more, I'd have to go all the way out to the cold garage again (the thought never occurred to me that I could just go without), so I turned around and got another handful. Yes, no spoon, completely primitive. I walked back to bed, eating my handful of dough. After finishing the first, and setting the second on my nightstand while I snuggled into bed, full and happy, I realized that when the kids woke up, there would be the cookie dough- totally busted. So I did the only reasonable thing and unreasonable person would do. I ate the rest of it. So here I am, confessing, and wishing that I could throw up. I never want to see cookie dough again. That's what I get.

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