Rob left a comment on an earlier post, intimating that I had a bit of an outburst this past weekend. I have to admit I wasn't in the best of moods Sunday, and I blame lack of sleep through staying up all hours every night trying to get the damn cat in. Enough already, now he takes his chances with the neighbourhood coyote gang. Anyway back to yesterday evening, Sid and Grady have gone to bed and I am in the bathroom, trying unsuccessfully for the umpteenth time to close the cupboard door underneath the sink. Finally I'd had enough and lost my temper. Stuff came out of that cupboard so fast you couldn't see it for dust, and all the time it I was ranting about the f***ing cupboard this, and f***ing cupboard that. All of a sudden I realise I have an audience and look up to see the kids lined up in the doorway, pissing themselves laughing. Rob was standing there too, but he wasn't laughing. "What the hell are you doing ?" He asked, looking at the entire contents of the cupboard, two or three years of cosmetic and cleaning detritus strewn across the floor. Grady chimed in "I don't know dad, but don't stop her. This is hilarious".
I was in no mood for jokes, but it is extremely difficult to maintain the high ground when everyone is laughing at you. Rob mutters something under his breath - one more peep out of him about hormones or menopause, and I cannot be held responsible for my actions. Not to mention he is awfully brave, considering I now have access to a machete - and starts putting everything back in the cupboard. Sid and Grady return to their respective rooms still laughing. From there, they proceed to loudly grade my rant on a scale of 1 to 10 and debate where it fits in with previous dust-ups. Grady maintained it was right up there with my outburst at Christmas where I swept a display of Christmas Trees into oblivion, whereas Sid decided it was more akin to when I dumped all their toys into garbage bags and threw the lot outside. At one point I catch Sidney in Grady's room; she is making digging motions with her hands as she says to Grady "Who am I ?" and proceeds to let loose a string of expletives about the bathroom cupboard, egged on by howls of laughter from her brother. She can do me, better than I can. After I admonish her for swearing, and order her back to bed, I retreat downstairs to the sound of mocking laughter. It promises to be a long, long summer.
Sadly, this is my last blog. I didn't think it would happen, but I seem to have run out of original stories. My children, I'm sure will continue to drive me crazy, and I will continue to lose what precious little I have left of my sanity, but it becomes increasingly difficult to present an anecdote that is not a repetition of some earlier narrative. It would appear there is indeed a finite number of tales of mice and men. I'd like to extend a heartfelt thank you to everyone - to those I know and to those I don't, who have followed my trials and tribulations over the past few months. It has been a blast, and I sincerely hope you have enjoyed them as much as I have.
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