I get it. The Quiet Contemplator has also been steering the Mommy Car toward Crazyville lately. A lot. She LOVES to play with soap and lotion. No biggie, right? She just likes to have clean, smooth skin, no? No. You see, I tell her 5,367,241 times a day, "No soap or lotion unless Mommy or Daddy say it is OK." Why? Because she likes to sneak into the bathroom, coat her tiny hands in soap or lotion, then proceed to smear it all over her body and everything else within a 50-mile radius. Super fun.
Que last night, when ADD Daddy had to stay late at work and I was left herding the two turtles by myself. I was feeding The Cool Cucumber when I noticed it was way too quite in the house. I asked The Quiet Contemplator what she was doing and she walked into the room and said nothing while rubbing her little hands together mirthfully. This could only mean one thing: they were coated in soap.
Yeah. I pretty much lost it. Now, did I beat her with the soap bottle while screaming, "NOOOOO SOAP OR LOTION! EVVVAAAAHHHH" like you so infamously did with the wire hangers? No. But if that furry red bastard Elmo was anywhere in sight, his ass probably would have taken a whoopin' just for good measure. I just asked her to leave the room so I could have a mini rage stroke without having DCFS called or adding to her list of things to tell her therapist later.
Anyway. You so crazy, Joan.
The Beer Bitch