This morning I saw my kids, laying around in their pajamas, and decided that they needed a goal for today.
"Hey guys" I said rather enthusiastically, "why don't you do something funny today so I can blog about it?"
They groaned and went back to watching TV.
They haven't done anything funny for a while. Seriously, what am I supposed to blog about? The fighting is getting old. The teasing is getting old. The whining is getting old.
Then, something weird happened.
They all got dressed without me telling them to.
Apparently, they wanted something.
They wanted to go to the park. I explained that the dishes would need to be done for this to happen.
They did the dishes.
This was too weird, so we all piled in the car and we went to the park. While there, I told them that they needed to do something funny so I could blog about it, so they climbed to the top of the playground tower and had a burping contest.
We had a nice visit to the park. I sat under a tree and counted all the moms with their designer strollers, overly highlighted bumpit heads and daisy headbands that are bigger than their baby's head. I laughed because I'm pretty sure they don't realize that they're living a stereotype.
I look over at Max and for the first time notice that Mac & Cheese he had for lunch is still all over his face. I ask my other kids why nobody bothered to wash his face, and none of them answer. So then I ask Max "Did you know that you have Mac & Cheese all over your face?'
He nods yes.
"Did you forget to wash it off or are you saving it for later?"
"I'm savin' it for later."
And I'm feeling pretty good about life because;
1. He's only 4 and has already learned to plan ahead.
2. He wasn't wearing a huge daisy on his head.
Then one of the bumpit set got out a really nice, hand pieced, hand stitched quilt and laid it on the grass and dirt then rolled her stroller on top of it and sat down.
I had to look away.
(Seriously, I doubt that she had any clue how much work and expense went into that beautiful quilt, and she's got it laying on the ground!)
Max went down the slide about 100 times. The kid is a slide maniac.
Then we went home, where Brielle got out her notebook and proceeded to draw some rather uncomplimentary pictures of me. She thought this was funny until I told her that she couldn't have a popcicle, then she tried to back track and drew nice pictures. She drew pictures of herself with tears running down her face, saying she was sorry and very sad............
Then I noticed that one of the pictures of herself had a mustache, and she doesn't have a mustache.
I still didn't let her have a popcicle. I told her she could have one when she grows a mustache.
How long do you think I should stay mad at her?