Miasmatic Review

3 hours down, 46 to go.

With the help of some Children’s chewable morphine, Clone is asleep. Okay, I didn’t actually drug my child; I wouldn’t do something like that. That doesn’t mean I didn’t entertain the idea, but no I could not do that.

The stupid trashcan had me so pissed I couldn’t see straight. Clone had knocked it over trying to get behind it to hide from Boopie. This is not a normal trashcan; it’s a 55-gallon, trashcan with an auto-closing lid. Since it was obviously over full, i.e. trash was strewn across the kitchen floor; I decided to take out the trash. My plan worked for all of 15 seconds. As I pulled on the bag, the drawstring pulled the top inch off of the bag… all the way around. Someone, KTREVA, had decided to dump the kitty litter bag into the trashcan. That made the combined weight of trash, kitty litter and cat scat way too heavy for the bag to hold. Of course it didn’t rip until I was half way out of the trashcan, thus sending a showing of dirty diapers, empty beer bottles and other pieces of kitchen refuse everywhere. It looked like my kitchen had turned into a landfill. I was waiting for the damn sky rats to come and start eating the refuse.

After cleaning that up, I really didn’t feel like cooking. Then I had an idea, I’ll ask the boys what they want, we’ll get it and everyone will be happy. Dad, “What do you guys want for dinner?” The Horde, “Pizza!” Thinking to myself, I didn’t really need to ask. Boopie chimes in with, “Can we get Pizza Hut. They have that sampler pack that has hot wings, breadsticks and cinnasticks!” Clone, “Yea! Spinasicks! Dad, we get spinasicks? I want spinasicks! Spinasicks! Spinasicks! Spinasicks! Dad we get spinasicks?” Me, “Do you even know what cinnasticks are?” (I can’t recall ever ordering them before.) Clone, “Yea, they good!”

Boopie is laughing his little butt off by now. Clone is marching through the house chanting, “Spinasicks!” So I ordered from Pizza Hut, got the sampler pack. When I was on the phone with the girl I meant to make sure I was ordering the right thing. I ask her, “The sampler has spinasicks in it right?” (Pause on the other end of the phone.) Girl, “Excuse me?” Me, “The sampler, does it have spinasicks?” Girl, “Did you say spin-a-sicks? Me embarrassedly, “Yes, that’s what my three year old is calling them, I meant Cinnasticks.” Girl laughing at me, “Yes, it has cinnasticks.” Thirty minutes later our pizza and sampler arrive.

I give Clone a piece of pizza and a breadstick and let him eat. Clone inhaled two and a half pieces of pizza and a breadstick for dinner. Pretty good for a kid his size. It’s what he did with the other half of the pizza that cheesed me off. I asked him if he was done, and he told me he was. I walked over to get him out of the chair when he flings the half eaten piece of pizza at my head. He had picked all the cheese off so it was crust with sauce and it stuck to the side of my head like a like a suction cup. He’s laughing; I’m pissed and scold him. After cleaning me, him, the chair and the floor off, I sit down to eat some cinnasticks. Now I have an entourage of kids sitting around me fighting over the cinnasticks, “Dad! He took the big one!” “Dad, He’s not sharing the dipping sauce!” “Dad, Spinasick stuck in nose!” Clone sneezed while eating the cinnastick and jammed it in his nose. Apparently it was very uncomfortable for him.

After cleaning him up again, the boys played for a little bit while I cleaned up the mess and the house some. Then I put Clone to bed, but not until after he got a band-aid for his toe. At the sitters last Friday he skinned the top of his toes. I don’t believe they actually hurt, but he won’t shut up unless he has a Band-Aid on his toes. Figuring it wasn’t worth the trouble I slapped a band-aid on him. He started crying again. I had used a regular Band-Aid, not a Spongebob Band-Aid. After swapping them out, he finally settled down enough to let me put him to sleep.

Now I’m going to go grab a beer or twelve.