Room of Doom
I will try very hard not to overuse the CAPSLOCK key during this post. *Franny glares at keyboard, knows it's IMPOLITE to CAPLOCKS SHOUT throughout an ENTIRE BLOG POST*
HEY, STOP THAT! ... I mean... Hey, stop that! *keep that left-hand pinky raised while you type, Franny* Okay, now where was I?
I left my mom here to sit the kids while I scurried out to buy myself an outfit for a big, upcoming family "do". I did not bring the cellphone with me. (Cue 'dum-dum-DUM' organ music) Well my 3-yr old son locked himself in the bathroom, and for over an hour my mom tried to get him to unlock the door, until finally the &$#$#& knob broke off. (THIS IS THE SAME DOOR MY HUSBAND 'FIXED' WHEN I GOT STUCK IN THERE LAST YEAR WHEN THE KNOB CAME OFF.) *pst, Franny, easy on the capslock, baby* My mother then proceeds to dig up every single tool in my entire house and dismantle the OTHER doors looking for spare parts that she could use to rescue Nicky. I understand the poor boy was fairly even-tempered throughout this ordeal, very politely asking panicking grandma "Can I come out now?" every couple of minutes.
Meanwhile, at the mall, Franny's Spidey-sense was tingling. She needed to go home. Oh and the mall was closing too.
When I got here and rescued the situation, my mother was about to call the fire department. It took us a couple of days to put all the knob hardware back on all of the doors, but god bless her, that woman TRIED. (BTW, I told Nicky to push the button UP. And he did. The door opened. "Unlock the door" is too abstract for him.)
Flash forward to tonight. Bathing the twins, STUPID DUMBASS ME (*ahem, capslock*) decides to scurry to the kitchen and grab an empty garbage bag with which to empty the overflowing, non-floral scented bathroom trash. WHAT WAS I THINKING TRYING TO MULTITASK ANYWAYS!? (*angry mom, step AWAY from the capslock...*) In the ten steps to the kitchen, Nicky managed to turn the shower on, full blast with frigid water. There were screeches, and a mad dash to escape the tub, during which my daughter slips and smashes her face on something.
I return to the bathroom to see the floor soaking wet, kids shivering, Nicky looking like he ate a canary and MY DAUGHTER'S NOSE BLEEDING ALL OVER THE PLACE! WHAT THE HELL!? I STEPPED OUT FOR NOT EVEN SEVEN SECONDS!? I HAVE A SMALL HOUSE, ITS NOT LIKE THE KITCHEN IS IN A DIFFERENT FRIGGING WING OF THE MANOR! AND IF ANYONE TELLS ME THAT I SHOULD NOT LEAVE SMALL CHILDREN UNATTENDED IN THE BATH, I SWEAR I WILL E-X-P-L-O-D-E BECAUSE I KNOW THIS ALREADY BUT THAT TRASH SMELLED LIKE FERMENTED DIAPERS AND FOR PETE'S SAKE, NOBODY DROWNS ON MY WATCH BUT WHY MUST THERE BE BLOOD AND/OR SCREAMING AND/OR CHAOS WHEN I AM OCCUPIED ELSEWHERE!? AM I THE GLUE THAT HOLDS THE UNIVERSE TOGETHER?
Oh my goodness.
I AM the glue that holds the universe together.
I have such a headache. *Franny clutches head, peels capslock key off of keyboard and pours herself a beer*