“Wow, everything is going swimmingly!” I say out loud as I send my last e-mail and print off a few extra copies of my latest work-plan. The morning has run smoothly and the little ones have been a delight to play with.
We’ve coloured in their drawing books, baked blueberry muffins, given the dogs a bath and now I’m getting work done as the faint sound of Peppa Pig sings it’s catchy tunes in the background.
“This is so wonderful!” I think to myself with elevated feeling.
I look up casually to the clock and realise it’s been quite a few minutes since my kids last asked me for a drink, food or something to do. Unusual? Must be Peppa, I decide.
The momentary thought clicks over in my mind.. but then I notice the silence. Where are the giggles? The quoting of Peppa? The snorting along? Where is, the noise?
There’s just that, silence.
Oh god no… That silence!
That horrible, dread inducing utter silence. The one makes you realise that:
“Somewhere in this house, destructive history is being made.”
Suddenly, I scream inside “What are they DOING!?”
In futile hopes they are still seated on the couch, watching the beloved pig without a peep, (unlikely), I swing my head around the corner, finding nothing but strewn pop-corn and empty blankets, abandoned for their newest unthinkable mission.
“Wait just a second. I DO hear something…”
By the next second I’ve sprung into action like a stunned gazelle, dashing towards what I can now make out to be subtle sounds of extremely muffled laughter, hidden behind the ever so carefully, purposefully closed door..
As I burst into or out to wherever it is they’re doing their evil little deeds, time slows down.
I move in slow motion as I gasp at the horror of the utterly disgusting, wasteful, horrifying or gag worthy discovery I have made.
“Whaat.. Arrre.. You… Doooooiinng!” splutters out of my mouth, slo-mo cinematic style.
It sounds very similar to this stunningly majestic movie moment:
So what exactly were they doing, You ask?
The answer is always simple: Something ridiculously stupid!
Let me preface by saying that my little boys, bless them, are highly intelligent, wonderful little beings who I love and praise more than anyone else in the world. Please don’t think that my statement means I think or am saying that THEY are stupid.
No, it is the act itself. You see, the deadly mixture of restlessness, age, lapses in motherly or fatherly attention and the need to experiment with the world that can often lead small children to become magnetised to a ridiculously stupid ideas.
The thought is momentary and fleeting, but with the impulses of a shopping addict at a clearance sale, that’s all it takes to have the deed done.
I’ll never forget the stunned expression Toby had as he looked up, completely busted elbow deep in the toilet bowl with his green, plastic water gun. Across from him in the recently closed cubicle, his fifteen month old brother smiled obliviously to the look of utter horror that was plastered over my face,. “This is SO fun mum!” my babies eyes gleamed as he dripped, drenched in delightful toilet bowl liquids.
Nor will I forget that “squelching” sound my new, $2000 suede sofa made when Corey, (two at the time) decided it would be best to cover it head to toe in “ultra care flea treatment” dog shampoo.
“Look Mummy!” He’d said to me, “Is all clean!”
What could I say?
“Well, at least it won’t get fleas…?”
Just doing my thing one day, washing the lunch dishes, when it struck again. The sound of nothing…
I peeped down the hall to; yep, another closed door!
Throwing the door open like a froth mouthed velociraptor, I was greeted with the surprised faces of Corey and Toby as they stood completely surrounded with still falling pieces of white pillow stuffing. Oh the magnificence, It seemed Disney on ice was visiting my child’s bedroom!
Finally, my favourite:
As my mid morning visit from my girlfriend, Carly, was going all too well on one highly memorable occasion. We noticed that silence suddenly and simultaneously.
I guess there is some sort of universal parental radar that kicks in to the silent sound of pending misdeeds.
We weren’t sure at first, but then the clambering in the kitchen put us on full alert. Bursting through the open doorway we found exactly what we’d hoped we wouldn’t.
Let me just point out that a full bottle of food dye does not come off floors, cupboards, fridge doors and benches as easily as you might hope… and if you’re going to give birth to houdini turned smurf serial killer, you’ll need a better kitchen gate.
I’m certain I’m not alone!
Guest Post: Ki Wolf, Blogger and Aspiring Family Author
Have you ever caught your kids doing something ridiculously stupid?