Tuesday, July 01, 2008
When does the fun start?
I wash the supper dishes because it's really quicker than loading the machine. By bedtime, the sink, is again, full with glasses, bowls, spoons. Sometimes I wash them before I go to bed, sometimes not. Either way it doesn't matter because by morning they will still be there and they will have multiplied.
It's a lose-lose situation.
All through the day I pick up glasses half-full of kool-aid, or water, or juice, scattered here and there on tables, or in the floor. I wash them, and before they've had time to dry in the drain rack, I look around and there are more.
I ask, "Who did this? Who's drink is this with melted ice?"
I hear a chorus of, "Not Mine!" in reply.
"Who left the colors scattered everywhere?"
"Not me, she did it." "It wasn't me." "Yes it was." "No it wasn't."
"Pick up the throw."
"She left it there, it wasn't me."
"Don't throw things in the house."
"Stop jumping on the furniture!"
"It wasn't me, it was him!"
"He hit me!"
"I'm running away", I say.
"Can we go?" "Where?"
I'm having visions of a fresh lemon slush from Sonic,
spiked with two shots of Jose.