Ugly Toe Does Cayman

OK. OK. OK. So No one really wants look at our pictures of Cayman. I get it. But I do want to show you these.

So as you all vividly remember, I broke my toe right before my big 4-0 bday. Strangely enough, the nail never got loose, it was just a little bit raised. I thought for sure I was going to lose it, but never did.

But then SSB and I went to Cayman and bought snorkeling equipment. Flippers. Mask. Snorkel. Kit. Caboodle. We snorkeled and dove and had a blast. But on Day 4 we were snorkeling right off the beach at the resort and we saw a barracuda under the dock and it scared the bejeebus out of me and I HIGHTAILED it back to the sand on the double. As I sat there picturing kittens and butterflies I looked down and noticed that MY TOENAIL WAS GONE!!! I checked my flipper, but it wasn't there. It was fish food.

So, just like the Travelocity Roaming Gnome on all his adventures, I took pictures of it around the island just for you.

Ugly Toe at Rum Point

Ugly Toe on Seven Mile Beach


Ugly Toe on the boat to Stingray City


Ugly Toe and Ugly Friend


Ugly Toe at the Marriott


Ugly Toe IN the Marriott

Ugly Toe with a sand snowman

Ugly Toe with a sand boob
(or something - I don't know, we didn't make it)

Babies!!!

So we've had a little trouble here at the epicenter of the universe with one of the kids so I've been a little distracted and unbloggy. And because of that trouble SSB and I only made it to Grand Cayman for our much-anticipated vacation by the skin of our teeth but we are here, albeit a few days later than planned.

Actually today is our last full day and M&V left this morning. We were all supposed to leave together but our itinerary got rearranged at the beginning AND the end. Oh well. It's the middle that matters anyway.

I will (probably) blog a whole travel log that I've kept when we get back (cuz I know everyone is always thrilled to hear about other people's vacations!) but until then I wanted to direct you over the the Queen B's blog about a family going to Guatemala to live in and oversee the baby dorm of an orphanage (Casa Para Ninos Aleluya). Newborns to 5 years old. I don't know about you, but I can't even imagine a better way to serve God. ITS BABIES!!! 60 to 100 BABIES just wanting to be fed and held and cuddle and loved. Its like a dream job. I mean, if you can stop yourself from thinking about the sadness of them being orphans in the first place or what might happen to them later. And maybe the safety of your own family while you're there. But its God's work. You'd have the Big Guy on your side.

I'm sitting on the beach in paradise crying my eyes out at the opportunity this family has and the fact that they have taken it. I wonder if they need a few pairs of hands from Texas to help out. Hmmmmmmm.

BABIES!

Pink Baby 2.0

To add to my stress level while Bunny was in the hospital a couple weeks ago, my cell phone (a Cingular POS) was dying a slow death. Whenever I tried to charge it, nothing happened. Then when I went to unplug it, the guts came out with the plug. If I held on to it real tight I could get it to charge, but I got several hand cramps that way.

So last weekend when it finally gave up the ghost and wouldn't charge at all, we went phone shopping and this is what I got:

I call her Pink Baby 2.0. I'm not really in to pink or cutesy, but I must have been in a cutesy mood that day.

The original Pink Baby is a doll I was given by my Uncle Jim and Aunt Rose when I was born. I looooooved that doll when I was little. Other dolls came and went but Pink Baby remained. For a time when I slept with every stuffed animal I had, she held the coveted space next to me. When I read to myself in bed I pretended to hook up wires from my head to her's so she could listen to the story too. (How lazy is that? I wouldn't even read out loud to her.) She slept under my arm pushed under my chin and as the night wore on, eventually she got squished beneath me. But it was OK because she was soft.

She wore a fuzzy pink snowsuit-type thing that didn't come off and covered her hands and feet. And she had a music box in her back. I don't remember what it played, maybe Rockabye Baby, but I remember when it broke and my mom performed a laminectomy on her and took it out. She still has the scar.

I am the only one who has ever loved her. Everyone else who sees her makes fun of her and I just don't get it. They think she's creepy because she has no hands, scabby knees, and ham hocks. Oh, and because I cut off 2 of the 3 little wisps of hair that poked through her hood.

What do you think? Creepy or totally lovable?

Bunny Breath and a Cookie

Last week we woke up at 5 a.m. and Bunny was having a hard time breathing. She was working really hard just to squeeze a wheeze out. We didn't have any Albuterol for the nebulizer, only the steroid Pulmicort and when I called the pharmacy for a quick refill I found out we didn't have any left. Beeman had just done a mask the night before and I didn't realize that was the last one left.

I brought her in to the doctor's office at 9:00 and 5 breathing treatments, 6 suckers, and 4 times of watching Toy Story over and over later we were sent to the hospital. She hadn't gotten worse during the day, but none of the treatments made her better either.

Doesn't she look like she needs to be hospitalized???

They really shouldn't have parked that wheelchair in her room. It was the hit of the day when the kids came to visit her. Note her gloves and tippy toes. Tee hee!The floor was covered with black marks after they left.

The hospital staff was AWESOME. Because of her food allergies there wasn't a lot on the menu she could have so the Dietary staff even went out that night and got her some Rice Krispies and rice milk for breakfast the next morning. That was above and beyond, I thought. I hope they send me a survey to fill out.

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SSB got up at 4:30 a.m. on Black Friday and went and bought us an awesome new TV because ours petered out a few weeks ago.

Of course the best part for the kids was the big box it came in. They got in it like a big sled and slid down then stairs over and over and over. Each time they added a twist that made it a little scarier. Right before one particularly harrowing ride down I heard Beeman say, "If we don't make it, put a cookie on my grave."

I don't know where he came up with that one, but it cracked me up!

Honor

A couple months ago Bugaboo received a letter saying she had been nominated for the National Honor Society. I didn't think she'd want to do it, but the day the application and essays were due she scrambled to get it all in on time.

A few weeks after that I got a letter saying she had been accepted. Woo hoo! I thought it was very exciting but she didn't seem to share my enthusiasm. She took the letter and put it in her room.

As she was leaving for school on Monday the 3rd of this month she said, "Are you going to be there tonight? It starts at 7 and I'm supposed to work until then, but maybe I can get someone to take my last lesson and cover for me." Huh? SSB was out of town for the day and Taz had a guitar lesson from 6:45 to 7:30. That's all I knew about.

As I stared at her blankly she said, "The NHS ceremony is tonight." I told her the obstacles in the way but that I would try. Really hard. She left saying OK and still acting like it was no big deal.

I got Dupree to take Taz to his lesson and Pootie watched the younger kids so I got to go to the ceremony. As I was driving into the parking lot Bugaboo texted me, "Are you coming????" Geez. For someone who wants to seem like she doesn't care about this, she sure was caring a lot about this!

Her boyfriend The Cradle Robber met me at the auditorium door and we sat as close to the front as possible. We saw her over on the side and made faces at her, which got us both an admonishing text message. :)

I texted her to just wait because we were going to jump up and down and scream when her name got called.

We didn't do it though. The ceremony wasn't too long or boring and she didn't trip as she walked across the stage to sign her name in the book so it was all good.

All of us are very proud of her.

Shedding A Shivery Tear

Fall is my favorite time of year. I love the smell of the cooler air and of ripe apples. I love keeping the window open at night and burying under the warm covers. I love seeing the leaves all over the sidewalks and lawns and watching them skip down the streets like they’re racing with the cars that go by.

Pumpkin patches, scarecrows, geese flying in V’s, homemade potato soup and bread, and thick sweaters. Dark evenings perfect for curling up with a book and a blanket under the soft glow of a lamp.

But amid all this loveliness right about THIS time of fall I get angry. The day after Halloween all the stores drag out the Christmas booty. Half of Wal-Mart is red right now. Red ribbons, red dinnerware, red candles, red dish towels. Everything is red and Christmas-y and I’m thinking “What about Thanksgiving? Why does everyone gloss over the best holiday of them all?”

And it IS the best holiday of them all. No spending money on costumes or presents or baskets full of chocolate tooth-rotting bunnies. Just family, friends and food. I don’t have to worry about disappointing someone by not giving them the exact right thing that they wanted. All I have to give is thanks and that’s easy.

If you look hard you might find some autumn/harvest/orange-ish items on an end cap or in a corner back by the bathrooms and it makes me sad. I know a lot of people get started early on their Christmas shopping, but that is on GIFTS, not décor. There should be more time dedicated to Thanksgiving in retail stores and maybe there will be more time dedicated to in society. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if people focused on being thankful and grateful for weeks at a time instead of focusing on what they want to add to their Christmas list?

Shoemaker's Elves

Blah blah blah. Halloween costumes.

Blah blah blah. Trick or Treating.

We've all heard all the stories. Except this one.

The area dentists have some deal with Payless Shoes in which they exchange candy for shoes for the less fortunate. I don't know exactly how it works but its Candy For Shoes. Our elementary school promotes it and we can donate the candy straight to them and they'll get it to the dentists. Last year I let the kids keep a pound of candy each and then we donated the rest.

Apparently the teachers have been talking it up to the students because BeeMan knew all about it. Last night while trick or treating he kind of ran out of steam and said he was done. He had enough for himself AND some shoes. I said all right, he didn't have to go to any more houses.

After we got home and they had their booty all poured out on the floor making Wall Street-worthy trades with each other, BeeMan asked if we could make the leftovers into shoes ourselves.

Suppressing a giggle, I just said no.

He said, "Yeah. I guess you need a special machine."

Yes. Yes, you do. Or some elves.

Pride

I got a letter in the mail last week that said PootiePie had been selected to receive her middle school's "Lion's Pride Award" and there would be a ceremony Friday afternoon right before school let out. She didn't say anything to me about it and I didn't say anything to her about it, thinking it would be a surprise for her Friday afternoon when they told her to go to the auditorium instead of Athletics.

They give out this award to a few students from each grade (6th-8th) every 9 weeks. Bugaboo got one in 7th grade and this is actually Pootie's second time to receive one. The first one she got at the end of 6th grade. A teacher nominates them based on the Six Pillars of Character: Respect, Fairness, Responsibility, Trustworthiness, Caring and Citizenship. Pootie thinks she knows who nominated her because that teacher always makes her sit with "the bad kids".

SSB and Bunny and I headed up to the school with camera in tow for the ceremony. As the choir sang a couple songs to open things up, I scanned the seats for Pootie. No sign of her. Because they were sitting in alphabetic order, I found the kid she was supposed to be next to and saw an empty seat with her name taped to it. Shitballs! No one told her about it. I went out to the front desk and told them and they sent a runner to go get her from class, but she didn't come. When the dismissal bell rang the ceremony was still going on so when I saw her come down the hall I dragged her in there and brought her up to the stage. Several students had not been notified so even though most people were leaving, they were still announcing late-comers. Pootie was mortified and very crabby with me, but by God I was going to get a picture of her receiving that certificate if it killed the both of us.

Seems like the person whose job it was to notify the kids that they had won could use a few lessons in responsibility and trustworthiness. And caring. And respect.

Hippy Chick *Updated*

We went to a 60's party last night at M&V's and I found this shirt for Bunny at the last minute at Goodwill. It makes a better hippy dress than shirt. She loves it and wouldn't let us take it off of her last night OR this morning. She is still wearing it She is the girliest girl EVER. You can't see them in this pic, but her toes are painted the same color so she is feeling very chic.

*UPDATE*
And here is SSB as Sonny Bono. He looked AWESOME. He looks like Italian Sonny Bono or a Mexican bandito. Either way, he rocked it. (Straightening his hair with the flat iron wasn't fun though.) I, on the other hand, don't make a very good Cher. Fat blonde chicks can't pull off skinny, black-haired Cher very well.

Dinner and a Movie

Last year around Halloween the older kids wanted to watch some Vampire movies so I made an event of it. We rented "Lost Boys" "Interview With A Vampire" and "Bram Stoker's Dracula" and I made this penne pasta dish with Italian sausage and LOTS of garlic. Real garlic that had to be roasted and pressed, not garlic powder. The whole house and its occupants smelled like garlic for a week.

This year we wanted to do something like it again but didn't have a movie picked out until yesterday when I threw it all together at the last minute.

The boys were gone this weekend so it was just the girls and us, Bugaboo's boyfriend (Cradle Robber), Dupree and SSB's mom. I picked The Shining because SSB was the only one of us who had seen it. (But he didn't even remember what RedRum meant so I figured it had been a while.) I was 11 when that movie came out and I wanted to see it SO badly but never did. I'm not sure why I wanted to see it because the only other scary movie I had ever attempted to watch was The Silent Scream and as soon as some girl got slashed to death on the beach my sister and I were OUTTA THERE. We went to the lobby and called our dad to pick us up. He told us about how he went to see Phantom of the Opera when he was little and had gotten scared too. But he was only 5 years old so it didn't make us feel better about being so chicken.

The fun part of last night was trying to find some foods to tie to it. This is what our menu ended up being:

Appetizers/Snacks:
Chips and Outlook Rotel
Chips and Hell On The Redrum salsa (Cradle Robber's sister's family makes this line of sauces called "Hell on the Red".)

Main Course:
Chicken with Crazy Jack Cheese (I couldn't come up with a very good name for that one. I had never made it before. I just found the recipe on the internet and went for it.)
Wendy I'm Homemade Fries

Beverages:
Red Rum (adults only)
Room 237-Up Punch
Heeere's Johnny Apple Cider

Dessert:
Mr. Hallorann's Chocolate Ice Cream

All in all it was a pretty good night. But scary movies are scarier when its quiet and there are no interruptions and the suspense can build. That didn't happen here with Bunny and PootiePie around. Maybe I can come up with something else and we can try again next weekend.

Sucks To Be Just Another Cog in the Wheel

So. I got a call from the elementary school principal yesterday. Not a note from the teacher. Not an email from the school. A CALL from the PRINCIPAL. This was Big Time.

Snickety and his friend got mad at a couple other boys at recess and called them a name. A BAD name. A name so bad that I gasped (ME!) and then tried not to giggle because she,THE PRINCIPAL, had said it. I will never be able to look at her the same ever again. Every time I see her now I will hear that word over and over in my head. Anyway. She said they will have to stay in at recess for two days next week and she was sending home a discipline referral form for me to sign and send back. I apologized to her and thanked her for calling. Then I waited for school to get out.

I picked the kids up and acted normal, but for the knowing glares I gave Snick. They went right over his head. I asked how everyone's day was. "Goooood" they all chimed. Really? I asked. Everyone, all of you, had good days? Nothing bad happened? Nope. Great days, in fact, because it was the first early release day ever. OK. We'll just see about that, mister.

We got home and I told Snick to put his backpack away and then come down and sit on the couch. SSB and I were in chairs facing the couch just like I'm sure an FBI interrogation room is set up.

SSB: So. What did you do today?

Snick: Well. First we had regular class, then we went to recess, then we had Switch Class, then we had lunch, then we came back and had AR time then we packed up to go.

SSB: Oh. What did you do at recess?

Snick: Well. First I got in line to play kickball because I thought we were going to play but no one else came. Then I walked around by myself. Then I saw some boys playing with a football and I thought they were playing Jackpot which is my favorite game so I went over there. But they were playing football so I asked if I could play.

(My heart is breaking a little right now but I gotta hang tough.)

SSB: And did they let you?

Snick: Yes.

SSB: And that's all?

Snick: Yeah.

Me: Time out! I don't think that's all. What else happened? Where else did you go?

Snick: No where.

Me: EH! (buzzer noise) Wrong! Let's move on to you going to the principals office.

Snick: Oh.

SSB: Why did you get sent to the principal's office?

Snick: Well. These guys on the other team made a touchdown and they were being really mean and bragging about it and then when they punted it they hit Daniel with the ball on purpose. He called them names and then I copied him and then they told on us and when we went back to the room the teacher took us to the office.

Me: What name did you call them?

(Ready for this??)

Snick: A cogsucker.

SSB and Me (trying really hard not a laugh): A WHAT??

Snick: Cogsucker. I don't know what it means but it is inappropriate.

SSB: Yes it is. But what you said isn't what they think you said. They think you said _______ sucker (Edited for family reasons. One of them being my dad he thinks I already have a potty mouth.)

Me: Do you know what that means?

Snick: No.

At this point SSB, all flustered and floundering, goes on what I call a "Sin and Syntax Rant" trying to explain American colloquialisms and slang and getting his tongue stuck to the top of his mouth in the process. At a convenient stammering point I jumped in.

Me: Penis! It's slang for penis. So when you said they were _________ (again edited so as I won't be disinherited) what does that mean you say they do??

Snick just stared at me with a mortified look on his face for what seemed an eternity. Then instead of answering he just said, "I get it." I like that answer. That boy will go far in this world, I do believe.

I'll spare you the blow by blow (tee hee) of the whole conversation but what it comes down to is that the other boy said it first. He had heard it on a movie, he said. Snick copied him in a misguided attempt to avenge his friend. The school doesn't know that he didn't actually say the REAL version but that's OK. He'll do his time for calling a name even if it wasn't what they thought it was and he didn't know what he was saying.

He knows what it is NOW though. And he will NEVER SAY IT AGAIN!!!

Bikini Kill

Love you like a sister always
Soul sister, Rebel girl
Come and be my best friend

Crying Buckets

If anyone is in the mood for a good cry, click here to go to the Queen B's blog for today. Its the sweetest thing ever. But sad too.

Good News and Bad

The good news first.

SSB called the urgent care last night and told them what an undesirable, non-compliant patient I am and how the crutches really didn't mesh with my baby-schlepping lifestyle and asked for an orthopedic boot instead and happily they gave him one. Yay. This is much easier.

Bad news is that the shirt didn't work and I did NOT stay 39 Forever. Oh No.

4 For 40

After limping around for 5 days and screwing up my back in the process I decided it was time to get my foot checked out last night. SSB took me to the urgent care up the street. They are doing some remodeling. I think they are adding an ArtistMommy wing. ;)

Anyway. They took some x-rays and when the doctor came back in after looking at them he was kind of chuckling to himself. The top of my big toe is broken in four pieces. "Shattered" he said. I don't see what's so funny. We got to see the x-rays as we were leaving and one of the breaks is a whole chip on the side. He gave me some crutches even though I wanted a boot. I am not using them. How am I going to hang on to Bunny through the parking lot when I take BeeMan to the dentist this afternoon if I'm on crutches??? A boot would be so much easier. Why doesn't anyone ever listen to me??

Today's the last day of my 30's. Or is it????

If This is 40 . . .

. . . what am I going to be like at 80?

Last night I was coming down the stairs and shutting down my laptop at the same time. I stopped on the landing to close the last program and then started walking again. I used to be so good at multi-tasking. Not so much anymore, I guess, because I wasn't really on the landing - I was a stair or two up and proceeded to walk right off like Wile E. Coyote walking off a cliff. Only I didn't hang in midair and hold up a sign like ol' Wile E. would. I went straight down on my right foot, toes first, flipping the toenail and then the big toe back. Oh. My. Grossness.

This is the second time in my life this nail has been sacrificed on the alter of pain to the podiatry gods. The first time I was about 10 years old and shared a room with my sister. One day she thought she'd sneak up, throw open the door and scare me. Little did she know I was standing right on the other side of the door brushing my long 70's hair in the full-length 70's mirror we had mounted on it. Right after my mom pulled it off with a pair of tweezers I tied a piece of red yarn around my bedpost to remind myself to be a hermit when I grew up.

I woke up this morning and my toes were stuck together from all the blood and gore that had oozed out during the night. Of course I took a picture or two for blogging purposes. Go ahead and click on those bad boys and get a good look. But pay no attention to my grown-out pedicure. That alone is enough to scare you.
As you can see, the top of my foot is bruised. I don't know if my toe is injured or not. My whole foot could be crushed and it would be nothing to me compared to the nail being loose. I get REALLY sickened by loose nails. I think I'm all right though because I can hobble around on it by walking on the side of my foot. But I am used to that due to the whole 1986 Fantastic Frostbite Fiasco that caused me to walk on the sides of my feet for a very, very long time.

Just to nauseate you further, the dog keeps coming and licking it and flies keep landing on it.

A few weeks ago SSB dropped a big, huge heavy thing on one of his middle toes and it was SO gross and he was in a lot of pain. Why, oh WHY, didn't I give him more sympathy and attention???

I've now blogged about my pink eye, my black and blue butt and finally this. Head to toe. I've covered it all now, right?

You know, I think Rock Band 2 would make my toe feel much better. Much.

More from the mind of Snick

"What do you think would happen if humans were the only living thing in the world?"

and

"What do you think would happen if the earth was controlled by something inside the earth?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like if there was a big display in a country that had like a sponge or a donut or something and all of the earth and space and beyond was in it or on it and if someone came and ate it we’d basically be in him. And if he got sick then we’d get thrown up probably."

That kind of seemed like two different things to me. The explanation seemed like it went with a different question but I just asked, "Why would someone eat a donut that was on display?"

"Well I’m guessing he’d be a hobo or something and it was the security guard’s night off."

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Thursday is his turn to say the prayer at dinner. This was tonight's:

"Dear Lord, thank you for this food Mom made for us and I pray that we get our chores done quick so we can go out and play again. Amen."

Working Out Was Never So Easy

With only 12 weeks left until SSB and I go to the Cayman Islands with our friends M & V, it is time to get serious about getting in shape. Apparently the imminent arrival of my 40th birthday has not been enough of a motivator . . . but being in a swimsuit for one week solid hopefully will be. This means less eating and more exercising because bulimia is a lot harder to develop than you'd think.

I've read that keeping a food diary is key to weight loss. My sister told me about fitday.com a while ago and I've used it from time to time but not consistently enough to do much good. SSB and I logged on today and started the ball rolling.

It isn't just a food log, they have EVERYTHING!! You can put in weight and nutrition goals and track your mood, weight, measurements, and activities and it will spit out graphs and reports. My favorite part is where you put in how many minutes you participated in an activity and it will tell you how many calories it burned. And they have TONS of activities in there. You can even put in taking a shower and toweling off. This is IN ADDITION TO the basic calories you burn just by being alive. Score! I never realized that good hygiene was an exercise.

I'm all for keeping track of how many calories I burned and not so much on what I ate. Like I popped a few of Bunny's wheat-free pretzels in my mouth but I'm not gonna tell fitday about it. And if I did I would probably tell them it was 3, not 12. However, if I talked on the phone while standing for 10 minutes that would definitely get recorded.

This morning I started scouring the different categories looking for anything I could count as exercise. I skipped all the Walking, Running, Biking, and Fishing and Hunting categories because that would just be a waste of my time. Ditto for the Water and Winter activities. I knew I didn't go snow shoeing yet today. My pot of gold was lying in the Miscellaneous (reading while sitting) and Inactivity (watching TV while sitting quietly) and Home (reclining with baby) categories.

That Home category is my best bet. Just the "carrying small child" and "putting away household items" activities are going to take up most of my minutes. Listen to all the stuff you do every day that you can record as fat busters: vacuuming, watering plants, mopping, child care, elder care, cleaning house or cabin (cleaning a trailer or houseboat apparently doesn't get you squat), washing dishes, washing the dog, playing with children and animals (those are separate but they burn the same amount in case you're wondering), knitting, and making a bed just to name a few. Its awesome. According to this marvelous website I am a calorie burning MACHINE!! (My thighs tell a different story but I'm not listening to that one.)

Admittedly, I don't do a lot of knitting so that one is probably out. And there are others in that category that I will also not be participating in, although I'm sure they just melt the fat away. These include maple syruping/sugar bushing, cooking Indian bread on an outdoor stove and butchering animals.

What the?? How did those categories even make it onto the list? I'm thinking the only people who routinely go sugar bushing and cook bread outside and butcher animals are Quakers, Amish and Mennonites and they don't even have computers to track their activities on anyway. I think some list-compiling employee over at fitday needs to have a little more supervision.

I'm going to take advantage of all the other ridiculous ones though. Playing cards, food shopping with or without a cart, and changing a light bulb are all getting written down. Oh, and they don't have playing Rock Band on there but they do have a whole category for music playing and I'm thinking its just the same thing so I should be a size 3 in no time.

Due to interruptions it has taken me 2 full hours to blog this relatively short post. And that, my friends, is an easy 210 calories burned.

August Crush

August is always a yucky month for me and this year is even worse than usual. If biorhythms tracked monthly ups and downs and not daily ones, I'd try to blame it on that. As it is, I don't have an explanation. I just go with it.

I will try to get out of my funk as quickly as possible and get back to blogging, but until then try some of these blogs if you haven't already:
Queen B
Dooce
Jen On The Edge
Notes from the Trenches
Bee's Musings

Follow the Yellow Drip Road

On Wednesday Snickety and BeeMan's room was a disaster so I sent them in there to clean it. However, as soon as I turned my back they both slipped into their bathroom. Together. Kids together in the bathroom with the door closed is never a good thing. When my sister and I went into the bathroom together we were either eating spoonfuls of Country Time lemonade powder or doing experiments that included piling baby powder and Old Spice aftershave onto a Kleenex.

I didn't actually notice them until BeeMan came out. And being naturally suspicious, I opened the door and caught an eyeful of Snick sittin' on the pot. Nice. I closed the door most of the way so I could talk to them both and asked what they were doing in there. Beeman said they both had to go to the bathroom really bad RIGHT THEN. I pointed out that they can't go pee at the same time anyway (which they COULD but I wasn't going to say that, lest it become it pastime) so why didn't Snick clean the bedroom while BeeMan was going to the bathroom and then BeeMan clean while Snick was going? He shined me on and just said "Oh yeah. We could have."

I kind of thought there was more to the story but I have to pick my battles so I just went downstairs. A few minutes later I heard SSB say, "OK, but I still have to tell Mommy you lied to her" and he came downstairs quietly chuckling and told me I had been duped. I said, "By whom? The little freckled-faced one?" Yes.

Apparently as soon as I left BeeMan opened the bathroom door and said, "Whew! That was a close one!" Not gifted in the area of sneakiness, he said this within earshot of SSB who was obviously sitting in the next room and thus began the interrogation. Knowing they were busted, they folded like a cheap card table and made the job very easy. They spilled their guts about how they had been peeing into empty pop bottles and keeping them hidden in their closet. Why? Because they wanted to see how yellow the toilet would get when they finally dumped it. OK. Time for good cop/bad cop and I am always Bad Cop. ALWAYS. I went upstairs and made a dramatic entrance into their room where they were busy as beavers cleaning up.

"I'm mad!" I announced. "Do you know why?"

"Because we peed in bottles" BeeMan whimpered.

"No. Because you lied about it. You guys can pee into your HANDS for all I care but you can NOT lie. And Snick, even though you didn't say a word, it was still lying on your part."

"OK."

"So. Do you guys want a spanking or do you want to do an extra chore?"

"Extra chore" they said in unison.

"OK" I said as I left. "And if you want it to be yellow, just take a vitamin in the morning."

Tee hee.

So now they have started over to get it yellower. Here it is hidden in the sleeping bag in their closet. Ew.