Riddle Me This

Why is it that an object, no matter how big or how small, can sit around and NOFREAKINGBODY will even touch it much less notice it, until that is I get sick and tired of looking at the damn thing and decide to pitch it out the door? It could be something big like three broken toasters that will never work a single day again or something small that has been shoved up under the couch way back into the farthest reaches that the dust bunnies have grown over it and you can't even recognize what it is? Shit like that happens here at my house.

Here's my latest outburst along those lines. I was cleaning out the bathtub the other day and decided that since the mesh bag of rubber squirty bullshit bath toys haven't been touched in, oh say, an entire year or better, that their time had come and it was out the door they go. Now usually A2 is right there up under me trying to help clean everything but on this particular day he was off play Thomas the Tank since that's the new obsession around here.

I decided I'd seen enough of them and since the coast was clear I was getting rid of them. Now keep in mind I didn't take them out of the bag. I just unstuck the two little suction cup frogs that was holding it in place and put it in a garbage bag out in the garage. WooHoo! no more bag with mildew infested ducks, crabs or frogs on the back of the tub and mommy has a place to put her head when I take a bath besides hanging it off to the side or up under the bag so that it rests on the top of my skull!

WRONG!

That afternoon the chores were done and A2's begging to take a bath so I relent. Why not? The tub is pristine and because I'm cool like that I left the one cup that he likes to fill up with freezing cold water to douche the giver of the bath at least one good time while their head is turned in there for him to play with. I was hoping the Dad would be the giver but I went ahead and took the hit.

No sooner had that child stepped his nekkid little ass over into the tub did he realize that the bag full of shit bath toys he CAN IN NO WAY POSSIBLE LIVE ANOTHER DAY WITHOUT were no longer hanging in their place. (The same fuckers that he hadn't touched in forever. Have I mentioned that already?)

Let the hysteria ensue.

He started crying wailing at the top of his lungs while stomping both feet in the water, "MAAAAMA WHERE DUCK GO?? WHERE POG GO? I NEEED IT!" Talk about overreacting. I thought he was going to pass the hell out and drown right there on the spot.

Good damn thing I didn't throw them out, or torch them like I had originally planned, and I just put them out in the garage. So I convinced him to chill the fuck out while I went to go get them because "mommy was just going to clean them!" Pretty sure he bought that because he then started screaming, "GOOO GEEETTT I NEEEED IT." He's seriously got a future in acting.

I padded out to the garage, plucked them out of the garbage bag and resisted every urge in my body to swing them around my head at mach speed so that they would all fly out and pelt his nekkid little body one by one for making me haul that shit back in!

You'd a thought that was the worst of it but it wasn't. Now that they were safe and sound back in his clutches he had to fill each one of those little bastards up with water and squirt them. He was loving it and played with them for at least 15 minutes or so solid. Now I wasn't really paying too much attention to that because I was wiping down the mirror in there and doing piddly little things while he played with them in the bubbles.

It wasn't until I squatted down to give him his actual bath that he turned his squirty frog dead at me and blasted me right in the face. Normally it's not that big of a deal. I'm easy so I roll with it, that is after dumping a cup of ice cold water on him, but since this particular freaking frog or any of them for that matter hadn't been played with for SO long they were all filled with this black sludge that smelled and looked like ass.

There I sat. Defeated. Not only did I have to bring those damn things back into my house after tossing them out the door, my once clean bath tub was now covered with tiny black chunks of moldy goop that he had managed to squirt out of each one of those toys but my face and hair had the equivalent of ass sludge all over them.

After I wiped my face off I had to get him out, clean the tub out again, run more water, bathe him again and then jump in the shower myself. After that I had to take each and every one of those toys out of there and dump them in the kitchen sink where they all got a thorough scrubbing and then hung back up on the back of my tub in their stupid little mesh bag.

That little incident happened about three baths ago and I want you to know he hasn't played with them once since that very day!

Have you met my children? I will now refer to them as counterproductive1 and overlydramaticcounterproductiveoftentimesbatshitcrazy2.

Ever thrown something out that nobody had touched in ages only to have them freak out on you because they need it now and can't live without it or is my family just weird?

Almost forgot: Happy Cinco de Mayo! Hope you had fun today! I spent as much time as I could today going through the list of blogs I posted a few days ago leaving comments. I'm slowly working my way down. I want to make sure I actually read what you guys write and try to leave a good comment. I'm loving all the comments from you guys back! Now go out there and be a comment whore like me, you'll see them start rolling back into your own before you know it! I'm seriously feeling the blog love out there! Thanks to everybody who has been here and left a comment. Ya'll come back now, ya hear!

Here's the link to the list in case you're like me and too lazy to look for things! I'm going to try to remember to add it to each new post I add for a little while so that it's easier to get to for everybody.

http://randomdailyramblings.blogspot.com/2008/04/blog-rolling-with-my-homies.html