This week is all such a blurr, cousins and wrestling and sand, dirt, and bikes. But I do recall two instances of mayhem. I was using the bathroom and left the three boys wrestling with The Hunky Hubby in our bed. At some point he must have left, for when the boys began screaming for “Daddy” no one rushed to their aid. I zoomed out of the bathroom and charged into our room to find Sweet Boy#3 with his head stuck between the rails of our headboard. I lifted him up until the gap widened and got him loose, but he was less than pleased over the entire incident. Who makes these blasted headboards anyway? And how did they calculate the exact dimensions for entrapping a curious young boy’s misplaced noggin? And why?
Then I had the pleasure of looking up at my living room ceiling to find an unnamed substance stuck therein. Sweet Boy#3 was certain that it was blood, but I took a closer look and discovered that it was…jam. How a big blob of Grape jelly came to be upon my ceiling is a tail that I am not going to investigate with my full powers and abilities. I think that there are some thing a mother does not need to know. Perhaps many things.