They Have a Pact with the Devil
Posted by Zoe's Dad at Tuesday, March 25, 2008 11:34 AM and is filed under children behaving badly,Spring Break 
Can someone tell me again why we are having spring break? And who decided that this was going to be a good idea--especially after loading the caches with chocolate, gummy bears, cream filled eggs and all manner of high fructose corn syrup derivatives. Essentially, we give our children a speed ball and an empty week praying the weather will hold so that the high will be burned up out of doors. Yesterday, the first day of our spring break, began innocuous enough. We slept in. Relatively. I could have used another hour or four but then again, who couldn't? I made my world famous, from-scratch pancakes and sausage breakfast. Children were laughing and singing and doing all manner of things that little people do when they are happy in the morning having been served the best breakfast in the world. They politely asked to be excused from the table and scampered away. Funny. They never politely ask to help clear the table and clean the kitchen. Ingrates! I digress.
My wife was busying herself for work and I set to the task of cleaning the kitchen. Not too much time had passed when I hear Zoë asking Zella, "Have you been playing in Mommy's powder?"
It's not the first time I've heard the question. Fact, I've posed the question myself, however not in the innocently inquisitive manner of Zoë. "OH. MY. GOD!!!! WHAT IN THE WORLD HAVE YOU DONE?! WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY BE THINKING?!!! AAAAAAARRRRGGG!!!!!!" Note the subtle differences in inflection. Zoë has yet to develop the angst. I think that's because she doesn't have to clean it up. The powder in the air was billowing from the bedroom door not unlike smoke from a house fire seeking a portal from which to continue it's ascent upward. Through the haze stepped my little angel, Zella, completely white, dust plumes falling around her feet with every step. I was mute with anger. I ushered my little powderball to her bedroom, washed her and changed her. I then had the pleasure of cleaning the bedroom she had just covered with powder. It was not yet 10:30am.
About an hour into the task I shifted focus to laundry (I'm a multitasker, what can I say?). Besides, the bedroom floor was drying from the mopping I had just given it and I needed to move away from the crime scene. Zia and the twins were playing, innocently enough (so thought I) in the bathroom. Their laughter and squeals tempered my fury ever so slightly. Ever so.
The shrill scream let out by Zia was unlike any I have ever heard. She was mortified, frozen, save her vocal chords which were at this time producing such sounds that would chill even the heartiest. I dropped the clothes I was sorting into their respective piles (Yes, Honey, sometimes I do sort.) and twisting my knee in the process, ran to see what was causing Zia's horror.
"Zia, what is it?" I asked limping to the bathroom door. She pointed. Zander, eyes wide with shock, realized the tactical error he had just made and was scampering to get out of the tub. Zella, sat watching, motionless, thumb in her mouth at the back of the tub as the water slowly rose toward her it's progress slowed ever so slightly by the masses of stuffed animals that also occupied the tub space.
"They turned on the water!" Zia said. It was 11:30am. It's going to be a long, long week.
My wife was busying herself for work and I set to the task of cleaning the kitchen. Not too much time had passed when I hear Zoë asking Zella, "Have you been playing in Mommy's powder?"
It's not the first time I've heard the question. Fact, I've posed the question myself, however not in the innocently inquisitive manner of Zoë. "OH. MY. GOD!!!! WHAT IN THE WORLD HAVE YOU DONE?! WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY BE THINKING?!!! AAAAAAARRRRGGG!!!!!!" Note the subtle differences in inflection. Zoë has yet to develop the angst. I think that's because she doesn't have to clean it up. The powder in the air was billowing from the bedroom door not unlike smoke from a house fire seeking a portal from which to continue it's ascent upward. Through the haze stepped my little angel, Zella, completely white, dust plumes falling around her feet with every step. I was mute with anger. I ushered my little powderball to her bedroom, washed her and changed her. I then had the pleasure of cleaning the bedroom she had just covered with powder. It was not yet 10:30am.
About an hour into the task I shifted focus to laundry (I'm a multitasker, what can I say?). Besides, the bedroom floor was drying from the mopping I had just given it and I needed to move away from the crime scene. Zia and the twins were playing, innocently enough (so thought I) in the bathroom. Their laughter and squeals tempered my fury ever so slightly. Ever so.
The shrill scream let out by Zia was unlike any I have ever heard. She was mortified, frozen, save her vocal chords which were at this time producing such sounds that would chill even the heartiest. I dropped the clothes I was sorting into their respective piles (Yes, Honey, sometimes I do sort.) and twisting my knee in the process, ran to see what was causing Zia's horror.
"Zia, what is it?" I asked limping to the bathroom door. She pointed. Zander, eyes wide with shock, realized the tactical error he had just made and was scampering to get out of the tub. Zella, sat watching, motionless, thumb in her mouth at the back of the tub as the water slowly rose toward her it's progress slowed ever so slightly by the masses of stuffed animals that also occupied the tub space.
"They turned on the water!" Zia said. It was 11:30am. It's going to be a long, long week.
When they get each get old enough you have to get them to start their own blogs - I bet there's loads of stuff to be told that you haven't a clue about yet
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I'm not so sure I want to know.
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That's crazy. I never thought about it, but what do parents that can't stay home do during Spring Break? Tie the kid to the couch?
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Are you kidding? Those guys have it made--they can escape!
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I have nothing to add but "he he he"
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Haven't heard from you in awhile so I decided to come to your blog to see what you have been up to. So, funny you are having the easter candy issue - I just thought to myself this morning, "I really need to put that candy away tonight" - X asks for it from the moment he wakes up until he goes to bed. And he has had it after dinner for the past three nights...and that is after we had birthday cake leftovers last week for several days...this kid thinks he has died and gone to heaven!!!
Have to agree with a comment I saw someone else make....you really need to write a book. You have a great capacity for story telling.
Hope all is well!!
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I think we're all ready for an intervention around here. Or an exorcism. The demons of chocolate seem to have found a new home. Bring X on over, I'm sure an extra soul to save won't make a difference to the demonologist.
Thanks so much for stopping by and taking time to comment. It is appreciated more than you know.
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Off to a great start, I see.... how's the rest of the week shaping up? Still sane LOL?!
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Much better, thanks for asking. A bit of yard clean up after the big ice storm a few weeks back.
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Too funny.
You gotta be careful though how you phrase things. First you tell us that they're hopped up on a speed ball, and then you tell us they've gotten into mommy's powder.
I'm not saying... I'm just saying.
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You're right! I need to be more careful--with my words and my stash!
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Haha, that's funny! And it's good for you - keeps you young
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Or ages me quicker--I can't decide which.
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School breaks are why us parents need vacations. I hate the summer!
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Oh I love the summer. But I must admit, I miss the routines of school crazy as they may be.
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