A series of unfortunate events (with a fortunate twist)

The monkey, her wrenches, and the works. (Available here.)
Today...monkeys are throwing wrenches into my works. It's 8:30 in the morning and already shaping up to be one of those days. You know, one of those days---like every other one, only for some reason today you want to bang your head on the wall because that seems to offer relief of some sort.

* When I walked into the downstairs half bath, I could immediately tell the Smurfs had broken in to our house because they left little blue handprints all over the wall, sink, mirror, doorknob and door. I'm not sure what they were after in the half bath, but apparently it had something to do with the hand soap, which was mostly gone.

So...I cleaned the bathroom.

* The kitchen fairies must have been scared away by the Smurfs because when I finally made it to the kitchen, the dishwasher was still full of dishes (clean at least), and the sink was still full of dishes (dirty, sadly). Also, nobody cleaned the Whatever off the bottom of the refrigerator or the crumbs out of the toaster oven. I'd fire them except they didn't register any contact information other than "1 Imagination Street" on their job application form.

So...I cleaned the kitchen.

* Our personal chef didn't show up for work today so I also scrambled like a short order cook to feed the children, who were chirping like starving baby birds. At 7:30 on the dot, I sent the 6.5 year old upstairs to get ready for school. I called out her usual string of tasks, "pottywashhandwashfacebrushteethbrushhairclotheson...then downstairs and SHOES!" But in case the sound of my voice is like a dog whistle---which it often is to everyone in my family---I have it on a chart, too, with illustrations and words. Sadly, my daughter seems to suffer from the same chromosomal abnormality her father has, which manifests as the following:

-- selective hearing
-- selective vision
-- lack of short term memory
-- LYING or OMITTING because the TASK is not as fun as what she WANTS TO DO instead

I happened to not realize this in the chaos of 45 things going insane at the time we were trying to walk out the door so I did not see the jam smears on her face and her flyaway hair until we got to the school, you know, 15 seconds before the tardy bell.

I told her to check in with her teacher then excuse herself to go to the bathroom and clean herself up as she was meant to do at home before leaving the house. She swore she did brush her teeth but you'll pardon me if I shoulder a reasonable amount of disbelief.

My thoughts on the matter? YUCK!!!!!!!!!!!

When does "desire to be hygienic" kick in? Is it a case of you either have it or you don't?

She walked into school, a dejected form, like a kicked puppy but I forced myself to be unsympathetic. She'll have consequences until we can be sure she is committed to hygiene in her morning routine.

So...I start the day as Meanest Mom Ever.

* My other distraction was walking outside to the driveway and seeing the door to my car wide open. In point of fact it was Patience's door. Left open. And out of four people not one noticed so the door was open all night, in the drizzle of yesterday, with my iPod and other expensive things, not to mention the car itself, available to all nocturnal wildlife, including thieving teenagers who roam the streets in packs at night.

Luckily yesterday was Sunday. Let me explain my logic there. Most people here attend church so it's possible the roaming teens are Baptists and had the fear of God put into them, which I theorize has about a 14 hour lifespan. This 14 hours period overlapped with my car and the engraved invitation to steal it and the things in it the wide open door---and overhead light---issued all night.

This is the only explanation I have for how not one thing, including the car itself, was missing, nor have I found any pee anywhere in the car (this, by the way, I attribute to cats and raccoons, not teens).

Divine intervention is also the explanation I have for how my car started when I inserted the key and turned it on.

So...I breathed a sigh of relief.

Copyright 2008 Julie Pippert
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