When I tweeted this, I likely should’ve shut my computer.
To be fair, the ball wasn’t exactly a volleyball. It was a globe. An inflatable one.
Vivian and William were using the sofa that divides the kitchen from the living room as a net. And they were spiking.
Meanwhile, I was drinking club soda from a stemmed glass, trying to convince myself that my drink had the alcohol content of Everclear. Or at least Bud Light.
The serves and spikes continued, with the globe ricocheting around our house like a pinball trying to flee a 1980s arcade game.
After one of William’s wild serves, the ball skidded across our kitchen island, taking 1990s relics – CDs and newspapers – with it.
“Enough!” I said.
My discipline was greeted by giggles, contagious ones.
I grabbed the ball, zinged it down the stairwell into the basement, and slammed the door.
More giggles. William tried to wedge me away from the basement door.
Vivian’s eyes grew bigger as did her smile. “Come here, Will,” she said. “I have a plan.”
William went to her, and she whispered things in his ear.
And that was how I came to find myself staking out my basement door while a Mini-Pops version of the CIA met in my kitchen.
With a grin on his face, William swaggered back to me, leaned against the wall, and waited.
I heard the fridge door open.
“Mom…” Vivian said with a singsong lilt. “I’m eating the rest of the cheese sticks.”
I eyed the cluster of processed plastic in her hand and said:
“Dinner’s in ten minutes.” I added, before wedging my hip further into the basement door.
“I’m going to eat them all, Mom,” she said, “unless you come get me.”
Vivian held all five cheese sticks up and pranced a bit. Then she peeled the plastic skin off one and bit into it.
Okay, I thought, I’ll play.
“Give those to me!” I lunged at her, grabbed four cheese sticks, and heard William stomp down the basement door to retrieve the inflatable ball.
What ensued was an impromptu game, a cross between Chase Me and Keep Away. From afar, it may have resembled a rugby match in a small space with breakable items, like stemware and the bones of a 40-year-old woman.
Finally, the oven buzzer rang.
“Game over!” I yelled. “Out of the kitchen. Please.”
Vivian and William knew the final whistle when they heard it. They shuffled to the living room.
I sipped my soda water and rescued the animal-formerly-known-as chicken from the oven.
That’s when I heard William say this: “Viv? Can you help me find something I can slingshot?”
Send a six pack, please.
*
What has nearly driven you to drink recently?
They’re teaming up on you? Game. Set. Match.
I know. It’s like Frankenstein all over again…the creation outsmarts the master…
Let me see:
1 broken vacuum cleaner
Umpteen broken glasses
a chipped plate
wet towels EVERYWHERE
Bikes not put away
head broken off my favourite statue (thank god for super glue)
BILLS!!!
That will do for the moment! 😆
Wait until you have four, is all I can say.
Well, mine have four legs combined. I think that’s good enough for now. And sheesh. THat’s a lot of glass!
My toddler is just starting her climbing phase, she figured out how to open the fridge, she’s obsessed with candles and fire, and she thinks there is nothing better than digging in my potted plants. Nothing is safe.
Tough stage. I’d start playing, “Stop, Drop, and Roll.”
That’s what people who don’t have twins don’t understand. You’re outnumbered by more than just numbers – it’s that twin bond that really gets you! You have to give them credit for creativity though, right?
I’ve been driven to drink by my daughter suddenly deciding she CAN get out of bed without us and that her diaper is “too wet” so she takes it off, throws it in the garbage, and then plays in her room naked until she makes a little enough noise that we actually realize she’s up and put a new diaper on her. Fun.
And they did it again today. They were jousting with badminton racquets outside…seriously at first. I told them to stop. I walked away from the window. Then they kept at it. At dinner, they confessed (in giggles) that after the first time, they were pretending to get me mad. Argh.
The wailing and yelling over whether the youngest can have dominoes that the oldest is using to build something. The wailing and yelling over who gets to play Angry Birds on dad’s iPad next. The wailing and yelling over just EVERYTHING.
Wailing and yelling. Yes. I get that.
Yeah! This sounds like my home as well! Love how smart your offspring are (giggling about the cheese sticks–that would have gotten me too).
And I can’t stand cheese sticks myself. That makes it worse. (Husband does grocery shopping, so I’m not about to complain).
Don’t feed them after midnight, but most of all, whatever you do, NEVER let them get wet. Oh wait, that’s Gremlins. Well, probably just as useful as the rest of the parenting advice out there.
Hmmm. Just thought of a guest post you can write for me. 🙂
I’m your huckleberry.
I don’t have kids, but I do have a crazy-ass set of relatives on my father’s side and a workplace with more than a few nincompoops. So I always have Mr. Cuervo and Mr. Beam patiently waiting for me at home.
A crazy-ass set of relatives will more than drive you to Mr. Beam…
That’s hilarious. Mine are almost 3 and 1 1/2. Until recently, I was able to handle things pretty well since the little guy wasn’t really able to play with his sister as much as just play by himself. Now that he’s big enough to “play hard” with his big sis, they are starting up with the tag team method just a bit. I have the Sam Adams on tap and I’m ready to go!
It’s a parent’s drinking game. Take a gulp every time you say “Someone is going to end up crying.”
I have teenagers. Who are boys. That’s reason enough to drink 24/7/365.
Any questions? 🙂
Amen. That is all.
Having children. And a husband that leaves random socks, underwear and sweatshirts on EVERY POSSIBLE SURFACE OF THE HOUSE. The End.
Oh, and you missed your chance there, girl. You should have waited until Will went down into the basement, then closed the door and left him down there for a while. I think the giggling would have stopped. Although you would have probably had to deal with some screeching and crying. But that is what alcohol was made for, right?
Ha. I contemplated that. But one of the voices in my head said, “But the basement is clean…”
Loved it. Absolutely loved it!!
🙂
Somehow you will survive and then you will start your hard drinking. Hahaha!
Heh! You just reminded me – Leanne, wait until they are DRIVING and starting to date and all those other teenage things………….. THEN they really WILL drive you to drink!
How great will that be. And scary. Very scary.
@susie Bwahaha!
Oh, you make me laugh!
Driven me to drink? Recently? My kids. Home from college. And all. their. friends. Now (thankfully, safely, mercifully) back in school.
(Please pass the vodka. I’m still recovering.)
I’ll drink to that… the recovering part, I mean…
“You should see if you can find someone in I.T. to help with that.”
Heard it today. Drinking now. Heavily.
Words you never want to hear from IT. Also, “you do have everything backed up, right?”
Love it!
TYVM!
The day starts out with me having to grab my dog’s back legs and pull from under the bed. We had an all-night thunderstorm; she’s afraid. I coax her out the backdoor to use the bathroom.
While I’m standing out in the yard, the sprinklers come on. Not our normal sprinklers….the sprinklers that come on when our septic tank is getting too full (we live on 1.75 acres outside of city limits.) If you’re wondering if it’s shooting out treated poo and pee, you are correct.
I scamper happily out of the way, and notice a high-pitched, loud alarm. Avoiding the sprinkler spray, I walk around to the side of the house, and see a gray machine-thing with a flashing red light on top. It is the source of the alarm. I rush inside to call my husband (he’s in charge of septic tank duties for obvious reasons) (if you’re a woman, that is). His response to my call? “I don’t know what’s causing it but I hope our septic tank doesn’t explode.”
I hung up on him. Yes I did. He called back 3 times and I declined his call each time.
About that time, a friend called to ask about going out to lunch. I said “Yes, as long as it’s Mexican food, and as long as the serve Margaritas. How soon can we go?”
Karen! Wow. I was laughing at the image in the first paragraph. And then the second… and then. Hilarious. Not for you, I’m sure. I think I’ll take my cheese stick stand off. 🙂
Pregnancy, generally. Except it’s less DRINKING that I want and more… Neocitran. Sigh.
Ugh. Hope you’re well soon. Being sick while pregnant sucks. Not that I remember…
The teenage son who is learning to drive and really thinks he should be allowed to drive on the highway…even though he does all he can to avoid driving on the main streets in our very small city with not a lot of traffic. And we have definitely moved into the era of “I know it all and you, my parents, know NOTHING!” Only 5 – 6 more years of this?? And by then the next one will be right there… Someone wake me up in about 10 years!!
Ugh. It does get harder, doesn’t it?
I want my children to love each other, but I worry when they get along. If they quit fighting, then they start conspiring. Any time I feel out numbered I use my best parenting skill: divide and conquer. “Hey Teagan, your brother said it’s your turn to scoop dog poop” . . . “TJ, I let your sister eat the rest of the ice cream” . . . “Kids, daddy has candy.” They win the battle, but I win the war.
That’s wicked smart. I’m impressed.
Me too. Olivia, you are brilliant.
What a great post. Reminds me of my dad saying “its all fun and games until someone spills my beer”
Our youngest is just over a year so no diabolical collusions between the sisters yet (not that the 5 year old hasn’t tried). I really enjoyed reading this. Your stuff makes me laugh.
Thanks, Simon. And just wait: plenty of collusion is coming your way. I’d hide your beer…
Clever and funny – hard to get angry with a combo like that.
True. I’m not that good at getting angry. Annoyed? Yes.
A six pack? How about if I just send over a crate of Jim Beam now. It might last you a month or so, if you’re lucky. I can’t even imagine parenting twins. Two kids 7 1/2 years apart were enough of a challenge! Fortunately one’s out on her own and the youngest is just entering the fabulous teen years, so I’m down to one bottle of Jim a month. ; )
Did your local liquor store close down? 😉
You know, if you REALLY cared about Vivian, you’d let her eat five cheese sticks.
Or you’d drink more.
Or both.
🙂
p.s. Have a wonderful time with the WBs. No sense keeping that secret…
Ha! Always funny, Ms. G. And yes…a wonderful time was had!