insulin coma

he’ll be there with bells on

…but probably nothing else.

We’ve already established that Thing 2 (yes, they’re back on Thing status) prefers naked to any other state of being. He also happens to be a music lover. Today, in order to distract me from his lack of attention to task-at-handedness, which was, you guessed is, room cleaning, he decided to put on a one-man-band-in-the-buff show. Quite the site, I must say. Bells on both ankles, egg shaker in on hand, harmonica in the other, and a slide whistle in his mouth. Noisy and nude stomping through the house.

“I tried to put the bells on my guy (his name for his penis)” he said, “but they wouldn’t stay on. See?” At which time, well, you can imagine the frustration of the poor boy trying to velcro the wrist/ankle bells onto his genitalia. And me without my camera. His father will be so disappointed.

Yes folks, we’re currently embattled again in Mom v. Kidletts over whether the bedroom really does need to be clean enough to navigate without the lights on or not. I am currently losing. Again. I could really use some support here, and I know that there are at least a couple of people reading this crap, so COMMENT DAMN YOU!  And yes, sister love, that one was aimed at you. I’m in great need of some moral support, especially seeing as though I’m not getting the nicotine support these days, and there’s only so much carbohydrate support I can take before I support myself into an insulin coma.