Murphy’s Law says, “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.” Write about a time everything did — fiction encouraged here, too!
I suppose this little post that I was going to write for later sort of ties into today’s Daily Prompt.
For two days, I’ve walked around looking like Jerry Seinfeld and Cosmo Kramer in the Seinfeld episode where the building super switched all the showers in the apartment complex to low flow shower heads.
While my shower pressure was and remains just fine, when I got out of the shower the other day, Monday, my perfectly bristled for my head hair brush was no where to be found. I had to use the kid’s brush with it’s many bristles and it flattened my hair to my head just dreadfully.
Hmmmmm. How does a hair brush simply vanish from the bathroom vanity, you ask?
Toddler. That’s how.
G$ is a toddler. I hesitate to even call him a toddler since to say he toddles inaccurately suggests that he has an unsteady gait. He is bow legged in his walking, yes. He walks like a bulldog. His walk seems to always be with a purpose, angry almost, but it’s not unsteady.
The newly turned four year old happened to be up and is always willing to give up his brother when there’s trouble afoot.
“Hey Cdawg, have you seen daddy’s brush?”
“Uh, I think, I think, uh yeah, G$ had it.” he said with confidence.
“Well, daddy’s running late, buddy, where did he have it?” I implored the boy.
“He had it in his hand.”
“Yes, Cdawg, but WHERE was he when he had it in his hand? Was he upstairs??” I ask.
“It was in your bathroom, so he had it in your bathroom.” Cdawg says.
Increasingly frustrated, I ask “Did you see him with my brush anywhere other than mommy and daddy’s bathroom?!!”
“Oh, I didn’t never see him with the brush daddy. I just, it’s G$ because it’s always G$ and I didn’t touch your brush, right daddy?” says, Cdawg in his cute 4 year old voice.
OH MY GOD!!!!!
Weekday mornings, minutes matter when I am trying to catch the honkey bus, and I’d just wasted three minutes trying to coax information from a four year old who enjoys talking simply to hear himself talk and could care less whether the point of the conversation is ever reached.
To my semi-sleeping wife I ask, “Have you seen the hair brush, dear?”
“Friggle frackle froop shump pffffft, G$ prolly pshhhhhh,” says the wife while pulling the covers up closer to her chin to get comfy for the five more minutes of sleep she wants to get before she must rise to get ready for work. I understood G$ and that was it.
Well fuck. For 24 hours, it was always G$.
Between the nine year old and the four year old, we never “baby proofed” anything in the house and we never worried about the kids getting into things they shouldn’t.
Monday’s hair brush mystery was the last of 24 hours of G$ misadventure.
The day before, the wife wasn’t feeling great, so she spent a lot of time upstairs resting.
While I thought she was still resting, at some point I hear her asking somebody, yup, it was G$ “What did you do??! What did you get into, NOOOOOOO G$??!!! UGH!!!!!!”
Cdawg must have gone into the upstairs bathroom to fetch something and forgot to close the door behind him. At some point, G$ discovered this and managed to not only get his hands on a jar of Vaseline, but manipulated the lid off and proceeded to paint himself, the floor and much of the bathroom in petroleum jelly.
He did all of this in silence while the wife was napping just a few feet away.
If you’ve never experienced petroleum jelly all up in a child’s hair and clothes and on the floor, it’s freakin’ sweet, let me tell ya!
The floor to the bathroom became an ice rink (worse really) and G$’s clothes still look like they’re wet from the stains even though they aren’t. We haven’t Googled how to clean the mess yet.
This happened sometime after somebody had already caught G$ walking around in a different sticky mess earlier in the morning.
“What the heck is all over you now?” I heard Momma asking G$ shortly after we’d cleaned up the breakfast mess. “Noooo! Great, just great!”
Ah, G$ had made his way into the pantry and played with the still slimey eggshells from breakfast. Egg yolk and egg white all over a different set of clothes and the inside walls and floor of the pantry.
We have what seems like $10,000 worth of toys all over the house and he’s playing in the trash can!!
While mommy tended to the egg mess, I tried to brush my teeth, but the toothpaste was gone from my bathroom.
“Where the hell is the toothpaste?” I asked nobody in particular.
“G$ had it and now we can’t find it.” says wife, resigned in her tone as though this was just how life was going to be until G$ moves out.
“So there’s a nearly full tube of toothpaste somewhere in the house?” I ask as though it’s not a completely stupid question.
“Yes. We’ve looked and we can’t find it.”
Before bed on Sunday night, we got one last “G$, NOOOO!” from momma.
He had used the step stool that Cdawg needs to climb onto the tall island chairs and found himself a pencil on the island. Then he deliberately moved the stepstool over to the white wall of the kitchen and started drawing curved lines as though it was nobody’s business. Three sets of lines all over the damned wall!!
Thankfully, it was just pencil and it came off easily, but still.
It took almost ten years of parenting before one of the kids finally decided to write on a wall, so I guess we had a good run.
He likes that step stool, because a little before he was caught drawing on the wall, he moved it over to the refrigerator and climbed up so he could reach all of the magnetic letters that are attached to the side of our food box and began chucking them, one by one, all over the kitchen floor.
Just throwing letters on the ground for no particular reason…sigh “Nooo G$, NO! Stop it!!!”….Poor momma.
He got into his wipes as he enjoys doing and started pulling them out one by one and throwing them all over the living room floor. “Nooooo, G$!”
He got into some Luden’s Cough Drops. Who knows how many he’d sucked down before I caught him with one in his mouth. “Nooooo, G$!”
Now he’s throwing Mr. Potatohead pieces from the second floor down into the foyer on the first floor. “Nooooo, G$!”
Oh look, he managed to open the front door and the dog is now running loose in the neighborhood until we’re able to go hunt her down. “Nooooo, G$!”
This is just less than 24 hours of G$ and doesn’t include his usual everyday antics like taking one shoe from a pair and putting it someplace you’d never look for it. It’s fun when you’re running late to try to find a missing shoe for yourself or one of the other kids.
He also likes to put things in the recycle can. Sippy cups, shoes, remote control, money, keys. I mean, I know it beats the toilet, but still. Until we learned this was a habit of his, who knows what we’d thrown out!
So while I guess our Sunday into Monday morning wasn’t necessarily a what could go wrong will go wrong Murphy’s Law escapade exactly, there was enough that went wrong that I thought it was close enough tha….”Noooo0, G$, don’t you try to shove that pen into the dog’s…..”
Ugh, until next time!