Truth is Stranger than Fiction

It was the perfect storm really. Everything was aligning--vomit, hubby out of town, and lack of a mop. All these factors played into Thursday's night activities.

"Children," I announced at dinner, "tonight we are going to play Pippi Longstocking."

You see for a week our family has been cycling through which family member gets to lay on the couch with a Sprite and a garbage can by their side, watching countless hours of television, and moaning about tummy aches. As a mother of young children, this is always an exciting week, which allows me to play a game known as "Dodge the Vomit." However, the downside is, if you lose at this game repeatedly, you also lose your sanity. I find it is better not to play and allow my husband to take my place. But here was the kicker--hubby was out of town on business.

So after a week of losing Dodge the Vomit, and after a week of being quarantined to my home, I was looking for ways to spice up my life and also clean my kitchen floor. My cheapy grocery store mop died after only three years, and I keep forgetting to purchase a new one. This means I either have to mop on my hands or knees or avoid mopping my floor altogether. This choice, being a no-brainer, meant my floor was encrusted in squashed food messes.

"How are we going to play Pippi Longstocking?" McKay asked sweetly.

"We are going to mop the floor like Pippi!"

"Yeah!" McKay declared. "Hurry everyone and eat faster!"

"Do you have enough scrub brushes to tie to everyone's feet?" Parker asked.

"I'll see what I can find."

Makenna, our neighbor, was eating dinner with us. "Wow, I haven't been over for awhile. I forgot what your house was like."

After dinner I gathered sponges and scrub brushes, poured some soapy water on the floor, and let the kids have at it.

All was going well, so I soon left the kids to their soapy fun, and went to take care of Deacon, who was taking his turn on the couch that day. After that I remembered an email I needed to take care of, and then I remembered I needed to renew my library books online, which reminded me that I would actually like to sit on the couch and read for awhile. Which I did. While ignoring the children. Even while I heard the sink turn on and more water being dumped on the floor. I just kept reading and ignoring. Even after Makenna asked, "How are we supposed to get all this water and soap up anyway?" I just said, "Use some towels," and went right on ignoring. I'm pretty good at ignoring. It may be the most special talent I possess, but I hate to brag when others just aren't as good at it as I am.

About two hours later, long after the kids had tired of playing Pippi Longstocking, I tucked my kiddos in bed, and checked on the kitchen.

Wow, the floor looks really clean, I thought. Then I went to bed.

The next morning when I went downstairs my laminate flooring was warped and starting to peel up a little--very clean, but very unattractive.

This is what I have learned from the experience. 1. Do not attempt to clean flooring after losing at Dodge the Vomit. 2. Write "mop" on grocery list. 3. Pippi Longstocking is actually a fictional character. This is why she could clean her floor by tying scrub brushes to her feet and skating acrossed it. This is also why she kept a horse on the patio, outsmarted policemen, and had a cannibal king for a father. I am not fictional. I am real. And now my kitchen floor really bugs me.

Mealtime Manners

Deacon: "Mom, get me my water NOW!"

Me: "Excuse me. Did you mean to say, 'Mother, that I love, please get me a drink of water'?"

Deacon: "Mother, that I love, please get me a drink of water."

I place a glass of water at Deacon's place.

Deacon: "Because my clothes are getting out of style here."

Shopping with Parker

Me: "I'm not sure if this watch is my style."

Parker: "Mom, you have no style. Can we get out of here?"

Honesty is the Best Policy

"Brush your teeth and get in the van for swimming lessons. We need to leave in five minutes," I yelled at my kids this morning, as I stood sentinel at the doorway.

First down was Parker.

"Did you brush your teeth?"

"Yes."

"You may proceed to the van," I said stepping away from the door.

Next came McKay.

"You forgot to wear shoes," I reminded her.

"Oh, yeah," she said, heading back for flip-flops. I would think that wearing shoes would come automatically to most people, but not McKay. Once I went to unload her from the van only to discover she was barefoot. Her ballet bag saved us that day, as she danced her way through the store in ballet slippers.

Finally, Deacon made it down the stairs.

"Did you brush your teeth?"

"Yes, sir, mom-o," he announced, as I let him by. "I also left the water running in the bathroom sink and made a house out of toilet paper."

What? I raced upstairs. Yep, Deacon was correct on both accounts.

Alright, the out-the-door mommy questions are going to be tougher from now on. "Did you brush your teeth? Will I need to file an insurance claim when I return home based on any of your actions today? Should I stop at Costco and buy another case of toilet paper?"

Oh, yeah, nothing's going to get by me now.

Spiritual Moments

Ahh, family home evening, the one night a week where our family gathers together to learn about Lamanite toileting habits.

Tonight Deacon had the scripture. "Let me go get the dictionary," he announces, running off. "Dictionaries have great scriptures in them!"

He returns with a pocket-sized German-English dictionary and begins reading. "The Lamanites pooped fire out of their bums."

He turns the page. "Then they stuck their fingers in the fire, and their fingers were dead!!!"

He continues to read about various body parts getting burned by fire, until he announces, "Then their whole bodies fell in the fire, and they died. But they came back to life. There they are behind the couch! And they're shooting me!"

At which point screaming erupts as all the children run from the Lamanites.

Calm is restored, and McKay teaches us the story of the Tree of Life. I'm asking the children to explain the symbolism behind the fruit, the iron rod, etc., and they're doing remarkably well. I'm impressed. Then I ask, "What does the great and spacious building represent?"

Parker responds, in all seriousness, "Barack Obama."

The lesson went downhill from there. "What could be some of the filthiness of the world, that the river could be representing?"

Parker had an idea. "Like those bikini girls in Las Vegas with an American flag on their bikinis."

I'm wondering how Parker knows about Las Vegas bikini girls, as I answer, "Yes...that could be filthiness."

McKay interrupts, "Wait, I thought the dirty river was chocolate milk."

Trying to bring a little spirituality back into the lesson, I conclude with a question. "So, what do you learn from the story of the Tree of Life?"

Parker exclaims, "Never wear a bikini! Especially if you're a man!"

Yep. That's family home evening around here.

A Reasonable Battle

I’m exercising when Deacon comes bursting into my room, swinging a shoelace.

“I’m Indiana Jones and this is my rope,” he declares, his shoelace twirling circles in the air. “Watch out! There’s a giant rock rolling towards us!”

Deacon dives out of the way, doing a few rolls across the floor for good measure. “That was a close one.”

Parker enters the scene, shooting a Nerf dart gun at Deacon. “I am a bad guy!” he declares, rapidly firing foam darts.

"Not today!” Deacon yells, charging straight at Parker with his shoelace swinging.

After a few minutes of intense dart gun and shoelace fight, it becomes apparent to Deacon that his shoelace is no match for a rapid action Nerf gun. He does what every superhero should try in the heat of battle. He walks straight up to Parker and says in a calm voice, “I am the good guy. You cannot shoot me. You are the bad guy.”

When all else fails, try attacking your enemy with reason.

May the Force be with You

Five minutes into Sacrament meeting today, the first counselor announces the opening song.

"We will now sing on page 60, 'The Battle Hymn of the Republic.'"

Parker excitedly asks, "Are we singing a Star Wars song?"

Music was making Parker think today. The congregation was standing to sing the rest hymn. In the quiet lull of singing between verses one and two, he asked, "Why don't these pews come equipped with built-in whoopee cushions?"

You have much to learn, young Parker.