I know, long dry spells and then two posts in one day. Bedtime tonight was just too ridiculous not to share.
Paul: I want to tell you guys a story. Stymie cut a big gash in his head at work Saturday.
Levi: DID HE DIE?!?!
Me: No, you bloodthirsty child.
P: Well, I didn’t see it. But Dan said it was big.
L: Are you sure he didn’t DIE?!?
Me: No, I said he didn’t die. I’m sure.
P: And then he went home early. He went home early. You don’t understand. He doesn’t do that.
L: DAD! DAD! DAD! DAD! Did he DIE when he cut his head off?
P: He didn’t cut his head off! He just cut a big gash in his head.
Mary Lou: Dan doesn’t leave work early?
P: No. Well, he doesn’t either, but I meant Stymie.
Me: I don’t know why you can’t keep up.
P: He just never leaves early. It’s like seriously a big event.
Elias, running through the kitchen with arms over his head: EVERYBODY CONGA! EVERYBODY CONGA! EVERYBODY CONGA!
Me: It is way past bedtime. Way. Past. HEY! Go brush your teeth!!
P: You guys aren’t even listening to me.
E, on his next loop: EVERYBODY CONGA! EVERYBODY CONGA! EVERYBODY CONGA!
L: EVERYBODY CONGA! EVERY … HEY DAD!!!! When he cut his head off, what did the doctor do? CONGA! EVERYBODY CONGA!
Me: I’m sorry. I thought you were done.
ML: Me too.
P: He didn’t cut his head off, I said. He just got a gash in his head. He probably just rubbed some dirt on it.
P: And no, I wasn’t done.
Me: If I don’t kill these children by 10:00 tomorrow morning, it’s going to be a miracle. GO BRUSH YOUR TEETH!!!!!!! Sorry. Please go ahead with your story.
P: And then he came in late. Came in late!!!! Beanie! Stop that!
Me: Tricia is going to text me tomorrow and tell me how nice it is that the girls are at school, and then I’m going to have to kill her, too.
ML: Oh, she wouldn’t do that. Bahahahahaha!!!!!
P: So we asked him what the doctor said. He said his wife really thought he needed stitches but that’s just silly, and she wasn’t dragging him in to any doctor.
Me: ARE YOU BRUSHING YOUR TEETH?
L, around his toothbrush: Yes, Mom! OWWWWW! He’s punching me!
E: NUH UH!!!!! Owwwww!!
Me: So help me …
ML: I’m sorry. We really are listening. Go ahead.
P: No, I’m done. That was the end.
Me: … okay.
P: I just thought it was funny because his wife was worried about him and he thought that was silly.
Me: Oh, what now?
L: It’s my turn for the Star Wars pajamas and he’s ALREADY WEARING THEM!!!!
Me, more concerned with quiet than justice: Well, um … it’s his birthday. Maybe just let him wear them tonight and we’ll makes sure you wear them on your birthday? You’ll have to remind me, though.
ML: Your children are … funny.
Me: It’s funnier when you don’t live here.
ML: I do know that.
P: Is it an odd or an even day, guys? Odd? Okay, it’s Levi’s turn for the first drink. (No, seriously. This is a thing. THAT WE HAVE TO KEEP TRACK OF.)
E: But it’s MY BIRTHDAY!!!!
P: Do you think he can have first drink since it’s his birthday tonight, bud?
L: I’ll trade him for the Star Wars pajamas.
P: We’re not trading pajamas. It’s way past bedtime.
L: Give me the drink.
ML, from the next room: <hysterical laughter>
Me: Why are all the socks on the floor?!?!?! I don’t understand what happens in here.
P: Okay, honey. Let’s just get them to bed. What are they doing?
Me: They’re trading pajamas now. I can’t even.
P: Guys! This is not the time for messing around!
L: But now I’m not wearing ANY shirt!!!
P: Guys, you’re making Mama put her head down in her hands. Come on now.
Believe it or not, after a bedtime prayer and a closed door, I haven’t heard anything else from them. They have two speeds: warp and off. Anyway. This is why I don’t get enough sleep. I stay up late because it’s the only time the house is quiet.
I’m sure Paul’s story was a lot funnier when he got to tell it without any conga lines.
Also, I am thankful birthdays come once a year. I can’t handle all the exception negotiations.