Infamous Floss Incident

How I love productive days, the past couple have been extremely so.  We got the washer and dryer hooked up in our house finally, so no more willing laundromat robbery for this family.  A special thank you to Dina, Jason, and Nic for helping out with the dryer hook-up, seeing as I'm a newbie when it comes to gas fueled appliances.

My mom came up for a visit today and stayed for dinner.  She brought my sister's kids (Liam and Lilly) with her, always a wonderful time to see them.  The boys took care of Liam so well.  My heart melted watching them play with him, love on him, and feed him.  They are both excited to be big brothers, yet I have to admit my worries were that Bunny and Emery may not be able to adjust to a little baby so well.

Bad days will happen, of course, but to watch Bunny's adoration and gentle side come so natural around a baby is remarkable.  Emery, upon seeing that Liam was here, wanted to hold and feed him, the boys were incredibly patient with both.  I know in my heart that they will be fabulous older siblings, but witnessing the boys do boy things causes my knowledge to be overcome with dread at times.

A time like the one we have affectionately referred to as the "Floss Incident." The infamous day so ridiculous it has an official title.

Abby nudged me awake early in the morning and said that she could hear the boys sounding ornery in the living room, after a few more, harder nudges I rolled out of bed and walked to the door.  I opened it and looked down, I had to rub my eyes really hard a few times to make sure that I was seeing correctly.  Yep.

That was floss suspended across the bottom of my doorway at about shin height.

Not just a single string though.  Six.  Maybe eight.  I looked left into the boys room where the strands seemed to originate from.  Following the minty trail I discovered that the floss did not start in their room, it was wrapped, wrapped, and wrapped some more across each of their beds.  So I doubled back through the hallway to see where the floss went.

At this point, Abby, probably hearing the "Oh my goodnesses" and "Holy shits" I was muttering, called out to me.

"Honey?" she said, "honey, what's wrong?"

"I. . .I," there were no real words coming out of my mouth, only stunned consonants,"you've gotta. . . Jesus Christ. . ."

The living room looked like Spiderman had a seizure on a merry-go-round.  Over a hundred and fifty yards of dental floss tied and twisted over, under, through, and around each piece of furniture from wall to wall.  The culprits, standing in the underwear in the middle of their creation, held each other staring at us.  For an infinite second nothing could be said.  We stared at them.  They stared at us.

We're not friends anymore, Peter Parker.

I had horrific visions of my childhood; making soda pop grenades with my brothers and cousins, surfing down the stairs, destroying steel chairs and then "hiding" them up in trees, skating in the house, holding Royal Rumbles for the championship in our living room before mom got home from work.  I saw all of those things and more.  And then my real life vision came back.

I saw payback, in all of its light green, waxy, mint-flavored glory turning our apartment into a maze of string. I felt a bite.  On my ass.  It was karma.

Sorry, mom.

Anyone reading this that has multiple children I would love to hear how your children adapted to a newborn if you feel like sharing in the comments section.  I think if you don't have a Google+ account there is a little drop box that you can choose the "Anonymous" user to be able to write something.

Good night!