Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Appetite for Destruction

My son has been on quite the roll lately.  I can't decide if he's bored, or has a new-found ornery streak, but the kid has been seriously effing up my stuff around here.

Two weeks ago, he got into my room (which is strictly off-limits), got into my armoire, and emptied all of my expensive hair care products and oils, lotions, and mouthwash all over the carpet, bedspread, and our weimaraner Duncan.  At least 7 washes of the dog later, 4 loads of laundry, and a handful of tears over the state of my ruined carpet, and I decided to let him live.

Only to find him a few days later digging in his off-limits closet through the craft drawer.  He glued scraps of paper, glitter, and markers to the dog and his bedroom comforter.  I thought he was asleep, since he fell asleep on the way home from the swimming pool.  Nope. He was embracing his inner Picasso. The washing machine got a work out, and the dog got yet another bath.

Fast forward to this past Friday.  We were having a bit of a gathering, since we had lots of family in town.  I went to flush the toilet, and the toilet over flowed. It wouldn't plunge out either.  I admitted defeat, and called our friend the plumber. At 5pm. On Friday.  Three hours and 40 feet of snaking later, our toilet flushed.  The culprit?  Toddler underwear. Size 4T. Thomas the Tank Engine.  Sam strikes again.  Can't wait to see that bill.

And now we are here today.  I just scrubbed my bathroom, and yet again washed the bed spread. My hubs left a razor on our sink this morning, and Sam grabbed it while I was changing his sister.  Yes, in the bathroom he isn't supposed to be in.  He cut his finger, and wiped blood all over every surface in the bathroom and my bedroom.

I know that kids make messes. I know that kids are just learning, and it's our job as parents to mold their tiny schizophrenic beings into normally functioning adults. But sweet freaking Grilled Cheezus.  I am tired. And I am broke, and my washing machine hasn't quit running for weeks.

Needless to say, we've invested in some keyed locks at Casa De Hot Mess. This crib is going on lock down, but I venture a guess that Captian Destructo will still dazzle me with his destructive capabilities.


  1. Oh. My. Goodness. Get thee to a liquor store.

  2. Just wait till the pre-teen years. That's when you'll get your revenge.