Or I'd trip over something, drop it, and kill something. I'm a lost cause!
It wasn't enough that I had to rush out the door this morning after only a half cup of coffee, with a grumpy child, to take my truck to the shop so they could order the glass for it and get it in today. I also had to find out that I've misplaced my freakin Cell phone AGAIN and I don't know where. It's gotta be in that truck somewhere (I hope) but since I haven't used in since around noonish on Wednesday, the battery is probably dead so calling it from another phone isn't going to help me find the danged thing.
I guess I'll look under and between the seats when I get my truck back.
Zach's not a very happy camper right now. He's having to scrub some bright yellow weed killer off the white vinyl siding of the house where he sprayed it. You might wonder how he came to have access to weed killer at his young age and it would be because his PopPop, even after having been around 3 of his own children and the many grandchildren we've been blessed with, doesn't THINK! He left the sprayer right in front of the porch steps and anyone with HALF a brain knows that when a child sees something that they're not supposed to touch, that can be sprayed, or turned on, or turned over, or blown up, etc,,, they're gonna give it a go. Even I, in my constant state of dinginess, know this due to the hundred, million times I've had to scrub nail polish, markers, crayons, spray paint, lipstick, and other child art mediums off of various surfaces and body parts. It matters not whether they're supposed to touch it, it's there. It's a guarantee that it's gonna be touched and touched a lot!
This same man is the one who decided that the third kitchen drawer would be a fine place to store those shiny, sharp, knives that he ordered from the shopping network back in the winter when all he had to do was watch TV. When I mentioned the easy access of said sharp knives for the little ones, he said that the kids shouldn't be in the drawers and all WE had to do was make sure WE watched them so they wouldn't.
I might point out that there is no WE in this watching of the children around here, at least not WE in that it includes the men folk. The men folk tend to go to sleep while supposedly watching the kiddies and give the 2 yr old that 3.5 second time frame to open a new bottle of methalade with a child proof cap that was on the counter that they shouldn't have been able to reach,,,but did,,and pour it all over the white vinyl kitchen floor and mop it around with my feather duster. (note: nail polish remover will remove this from your white floor). For the most part, the men folks don't pay much attention to most of the paths of destruction that a child can manage unless it happens to be some of their stuff that was included in the path.
I also might mention that it's the lady of the house's fault that the children do these things. This is the southern way. The woman is responsible for the raising of the children and the only time the men folk tend to get involved is when said children do something exceptional and then they want to jump right to the front of the line and accept the praise for fathering the little prodigy. If the child does something really dumb, or destructive, then they have inherited the gene for these traits from the mother's side of the family.
Now that I've given this some thought, I realize that it could be the cause of my gradual declining sanity. In just a few more years I could possibly be in line for one of those long holidays in a padded room somewhere.
I hope they have a good view!