This is your brain. This is your brain on drugs. Any questions?
What can I say. Mondays seem to suck around here lately. Maybe suck is the wrong word. But I can’t help but notice that those with an xy chromosomal configuration have been doing things that are particularly pea-brained on every Monday for the last three weeks.
Today, the big XY, decided to throw his hat into the pea-brained ring. We were on a bit of a cleaning binge. Not that we didn’t spend all of Saturday cleaning, or anything. We did. But somehow, yesterday in the course of a couple of hours, the bathroom floor got covered with rubber tire bits. The kitchen floor strewn with Uno cards and empty plastic Easter eggs. Dishes and laundry piled up, despite the fact that we’d eaten takeaway for lunch and dinner and despite having done seven loads of laundry on Saturday. Not that I’m counting. Well, I guess I am.
So this morning, as we were sweeping and vacuuming, our fearless leader decided to ‘sterilize’ the lids of the kids’ drinking flasks. He’d seen some dark things lurking in the shadows of the various unreachable nano-areas and thought it best to thoroughly cleanse them. I’d suggested letting them steep in boiled water. He decided steaming would be more effective.
Many minutes later. The water in the pot had run dry. The lids had melted and adhered to the double boiler. And the house was filled with a putrid smell that our oldest dubbed ‘hot sauce.’ He’s got a knack for labelling smells and tastes these days. We had angel food cake for dessert last night and he said: ‘this tastes like play-doh.’ And he was right. We were walking home from the park and the imminent smell of a (non) thunderstorm was upon us. ‘It smells like car gas and bathwater’, he pronounced. He might have been mistaken that time, but it was an interesting observation nonetheless.
Now I will confess to my own melting foibles following a germ-destroying binge many years ago. In an attempt to rid my house of winter bacteria and to ensure the health of my perfect firstborn, I decided to boil duplo blocks. Not simply dip them in boiled water, but actually submerge them in boiling water for thirty seconds…on the stovetop. Needless to say they were rendered unusable. So there, I’ve done it too. But I’ve learned from my mistakes and have tried to pass on my wisdom to others. Isn’t that what parenting and marriage is all about?
Anyway, as you can tell, I’ve had my share of male-induced trauma lately. Is there any chance you could send me some replacement flasks for free? Or, is there a way I can just buy the lids but not the flasks? Luckily the flasks weren’t ‘sterilized’, so they’re still in good shape.