It has been an interesting day keeping my two youngest kids (both of them girls) occupied while I finished setting up my blog. Especially during the two hour period my husband was mowing the lawn. The girls were well past sitting still to watch a DVD, and they had already pretty much destroyed their room dragging out every toy within reach, so they went their separate ways to find alternate means of entertainment.

Alternate meaning forbidden.

Emma, the Four-Year-Old Formerly Known as The Escape Artist, disappeared upstairs. I convinced myself she was headed for her Polly Pockets and decided to give her a few minutes before investigating. She needs her alone time. Meanwhile in the family room, Katelynn made her way behind the chair where I was working on my laptop. The built-in back there has a cabinet where we keep a pretty healthy collection of board games. Emma had left the child-lock off the cabinet earlier in the day. Katelynn had noticed.

She gave away her location by dumping out 91 Mexican Train Double Twelve Dominoes. The crash woke the cat and he flew off the couch like his ninth life depended on it. I did not intervene at this point. I figured the STACK DOMINOES–KNOCK THEM DOWN–REPEAT game would buy me ten or fifteen more minutes of (noisy) computer time. Had I paused to glance two feet behind me, I would have realized that Katelynn had pushed past the dominoes and was checking out the contents of a few other games.

Apparently nothing was catching her fancy, because when I finally did turn around the domino pile had grown into a Clue-Boggle-Chutes and Ladders-Life-Payday-Travel Connect Four-Chinese Checkers-Wizard of Oz Trivia-Apples to Apples-Farkle-Monopoly-and-Mexican Train Double Twelve Dominoes pile. In less than five minutes.

It was at this point that I wondered to myself what all the silence was coming from Emma’s room. I didn’t have to wait for an answer since Emma came scooting down the stairs at that exact moment carrying three Barbies. Two naked, one headless.

I gasped and yelled “OH!NO!” and not because the Barbies were naked and headless but because the Barbie Rolling Travel Case where the naked headless Barbies live is stored in Emma’s closet on the top shelf. The very top shelf. Like the I-Need-My-Stepladder-to-Get-to-It top. And it didn’t take a rocket surgeon to figure out how she got to it. She used the chest of drawers in her closet as her step-ladder.

I asked her, but she denied it.

I’m still pretty sure I’m right.

I was just starting to hide the evidence clean up the mess when I heard another sickening sound which I immediately recognized as the lawn mower turning off. Crap. My husband, Rob, walked in the front door and jerked to a stop as he caught sight of Colonel Mustard. In the family room. With a shitload of Monopoly Money. And he proceeded to do the one thing that sends chills down my spine every time he does it.

Stood. and. stared.

Okay, that’s two things. Whatever.

Probably thirty seconds passed before he spoke:
ROB: “I’m just curious. Who’s in charge? You or the baby?”
ME: “The baby.”
ROB: “All right. As long as you’re okay with it.”

I am.

And anyway, the important thing is I got my blog set-up finished. Hope you enjoy reading it. Oh, but don’t tell my husband who got the Barbies down.

I’ll deny it.