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Monday, November 9, 2015

Mommy Needs A Valium

It's just one of those days where taking five in a dark closet with a bottle of wine is practically mandatory. I love this kid but I wonder if he is secretly watching Denis the Menis and Problem Child behind my back and ploting his next move. Let's start at the beginning of this escapade.

My lovely child proclaims that he has to pee and goes running for what I assume to be the bathroom. WRONG!!! This kid stops short 5' and pees in the pile of dirty clothes outside the laundry room. Why does this shit happen in my house? Ok I can handle this, but this time he is cleaning up his own mess. For the love of god he's 4 years old this should not happen. Decide on appropriate punishment = he picks up the pee pee clothes and puts them in the wash machine. Seems simple enough, supervise the the tiny terror picking up, start the wash, rinse off kid in the tub. Again WRONG!!! It always happens once you think everything is back under control, really it's just a never ending shit storm in my house.
 
Quinn sneaks off under the ruse of going to his room to get a toy. We hear a door assume it's to his bedroom, but oh no turns out he's in the laundry room. What the little processes in this kids head are is totally beyond me because, he decided that the pee pee clothes needed more soap. We have a front load washer that he stopped during the rinse cycle and some how opened the door before it was drained completely, and ended up with a decent puddle. Then he proceeded to pour the detergent in the soap compartment that's above his head. Well you know how that went for him; it went everywhere! An entire brand new bottle of detergent was all down the front of him and all over the floor. He panicked slipped and fell then went running up and down the hallway spreading the mess. While assessing the disaster I decided it was time to call a pro. MOM, I needed my mommy to talk me through this. I know suck it up but, when there is an explosion of sticky blue laundry soap you would call your mom too. As the phone is ringing Quinn came up behind me and in the smallest voice asked "mommy who are you calling? The police?". At that point I just had to laugh, it was one of those infamous laugh or cry moments.

An hour later, and his third bath of the night, I think we're back under control. Never so grateful for bed time.

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