The Boy: MomMomMomMom. What’s this?
K: It’s 25 cents. We call it a quarter.
TB: A quarter. That’s what I need.
K: Why do you need a quarter?
TB: For Harrison Michael’s candy machine.
And he placed the quarter in the pocket of his shirt.
I love the Cake Lady but what person has a candy machine in the kid’s toy room? She blames it on The Mister, but either way, it’s bad news. Just last week the boys figured out how to shake it with just enough velocity to make some candy come out. Apparently The Mister fixed that problem but someone has done the math that the candy machine requires “a quarter.”
Fastforward 5 hours later when we go over to Harrison Michael’s house. I dropped The Boy off and left. Five minutes later I got a phone call.
Cake Lady: You are NOT going to believe it. I just went into the toy room and they looked like chipmunks with Skittle juice running down their faces. I made them spit them out.
K: In your hands?
CL: Hell yeah. I have to be with them. I don’t want them all cracked out.
K: Maybe I should explain. Eat figured out that he needed a quarter.
That was last week. We are going on day 5 that The Boy knows he needs a quarter. I now feel the need to turn him upside down and shake him before taking him across the street to play. Just this morning, I caught him in his father’s drawer routing around. He skipped right over the $150 knife, the two sharpie markers, and keys to God only knows what. I watched him slowly, stealthily slip a quarter out of the drawer and put it into his pocket. Just as quietly he closed the drawer.
K: WHAT ARE YOU DOING????
He jumped two feet in the air, which is about 2 feet taller than he is.
TB: I’m not doing anything. I didn’t touch anything. I didn’t get dad’s quarter.
I’m not saying I advocate breaking and entering. I’m just saying that one day the Cake Lady and The Mister are going to come home to a home without two candy machines. And I’ll have an alibi. Cause I’m smart like that.
Tonight The Cake Lady and I were sitting on the couch, talking about, well, I can’t say it on the internet because I really don’t need those kinds of hits. She paused for a moment.
CL: Isn’t it SO nice that your husband is upstairs watching our boys?
What I love most about The Cake Lady? Other than the fact that she was helping me put ribbon on the 9 million shirts I am taking to the DC International Wine and Food Festival this weekend? Her naivete.
K: He’s not watching those kids.
CL: But he is up there in that room with them.
K: And the room is only 10 X 10. Yet still, shockingly, he has no clue what is going on.
CL: You are joking. What is he doing up there?
K: He has his earplugs in and he is listening to some ridiculousness that he purchased online. Like Animal Farm.
As a side note, I asked if he remembered that Animal Farm is like an 80 page book so that it was basically like buying an episode of Dora the Whora, but he said he didn’t realize that until AFTER he listened to all 27 minutes of it.
CL: He’s listening to a book?
K: And has NO idea what is going on.
CL: In that small room?
K: With the door closed.
Not three minutes later, we heard The Husband bounding down the stairs.
D: Did you people leave in a nudist colony in California?
CL: Oh, no. Is he naked again?
D: They both don’t have any pants on. They were sitting on the end of the bed so all I could see was from the waist up. Apparently they took their pants off.
K: What did I tell you?
The best part. They probably took their pants off 45 minutes before. For what reason? No one knows. Who wants to even go there?
(oh, and if you are still waiting for all your free stuff I’m supposed to send you from past contests (HI, MELISSA!!), I’m going to send out all that stuff on Friday. You kids are so nice for being so patient!)
So we are downstairs sitting on the couches, drinking the coffee I made from the beans The Cake Lady brought.
CL: The boys are being to quiet. We should check on them.
K: They’re FINE.
The fact that I am such a moron amazes me too.
K: Listen. We have nothing upstairs. Not even nothing dangerous. Just nothing.
CL: But we haven’t HEARD them.
The Baby was asleep but I decided to check on The Boy and His Lovah so his mother would feel better. I did the low crawl up the stairs and listened at the bedroom door. They were going on and on and on and on about nothing. I have no idea where they get it. We went back downstairs to go on and on and on about nothing.
K: I told you.
CL: I know you did, but I don’t trust them.
10 minutes later they came down the stairs. Without their shoes. Which, might I add, is something I NEVER would have noticed.
CL: Where are your shoes?
Harrison: I left them upstairs.
K: I’ll get them.
I raced up the stairs and threw open the door. My sinuses could not have cleared faster if I had stepped into the Roman baths. I raced back down the stairs.
K: Where is it?
The Boy: I don’t know, Mom.
K: Where is the bottle of Vick’s Baby Rub?
The Boy: Mom, what are you talking about?
Harrison: We don’t have it.
I snatched him up because he was closer and shoved his feet into his mother’s face.
CL: Yep. Where is the bottle?
Harrison: We didn’t do it, Mom.
K: Where did you put it on?
CL: Just tell us and it will be okay. We just need to know that you didn’t eat it.
Not exactly. It won’t be okay. I don’t care if you ate it. I just want to be sure that when I step into the bathroom, I won’t lose both feet from underneath me.
K: Yeah, what she said. Where did you put it?
Harrison: Just our feet.
CL: Good. Why did you put it on your feet?
The Boy: That’s where it goes.
Nana. We have Nana to thank for that one.
And the bottle is still MIA.
If your bored, you can also find me over at PBS waxing unpoetic about my former dating life and Pride and Prejudice. Leave a comment so I look popular. You don’t even have to tell me I look pretty…