Archive for the ‘FAIL’ Tag
September 17 2010
My son locked me out of the house yesterday.
If you’ve heard stories about Buzz before, you know this might not have ended well. It wasn’t the main door that I could have had a key for, but the glass door in front of it. Granted, I didn’t have my keys on me anyway, but what I’m saying is the main door would have been a lot easier to get open, if needed.
We had just walked Jedi to the bus stop that early morning. I ushered the other kids inside and retreated to the stoop to fold in Abby’s stroller. As soon as I reached the top step Buzz was there, making a move for the lock. There’s nothing quite so discouraging than being at the mercy of a 4 year old. The world began to spin in slow motion.
Click.
“Buzz, open the door.” Nothing, aside from a devious smirk. “Open the door, Buzz.” I was trying not to yell, I didn’t want to alarm our neighbors. But oh, heavenly crackers, my hellion child is loose inside a house equipped with natural gas and all kinds of breakables. Do you have any idea what he is capable of?
That’s when Abby toddled over to see what the fuss was about. She looked at me for a moment through the glass before taking a few steps back. Completely uninterested in saving the day.
“Buzz, please unlock the door.” I urgently tried again.
And that’s how our house burned down.
I’m kidding. After a bit of panic, he eventually tired of that game and let me in. Though it could have happened. I wouldn’t put it past him.
August 17 2010
There’s a rule in this house: the bathroom door is always locked. It’s for Buzz’s own safety, since there’s any number of drawers he could open, q-tips to dispense, paper to unroll, toilet water to splash, cabinets with medicine to get into, bathtubs to hide in. Not that I know any of this from experience.
OK, fine, I know it ALL from experience.
Everyone is aware of this rule. In fact, Jedi even has a special “key” on hand to come and go as needed.
The problem with this plan is that Buzz is aware of the key, too, which is really nothing more than a quarter. It’s flat edge rests perfectly in the thin groove of the lock. If given the chance, he can, and will, still get inside without problem.
I was busy cooking dinner while J ran to the store for a few quick essentials. I heard Buzz making noise, playing, and thought he was keeping himself kindly occupied with his sister. I should have known better. Buzz is never just kindly occupied with his sister.
It seems he hijacked the key when I wasn’t looking. J returns home to find Buzz in the bathroom, a quadruple blade razor in hand. Attempting, and failing, to shave his legs like Mommy.
There may have been blood. And loss of skin.
My boy’s first shaving accident.
We’re going to need a better lock.
August 02 2010
The beginning of the school year is growing near and we’ve begun getting Jedi ready in an attempt to start off on the right foot. This involves a lot of primping. Yesterday was spent shopping for clothes. Then, we brought him in to Salón de Casa for a haircut. In other words, we chopped it ourselves.
We purchased a hair-cutting kit a few months back. It seemed easy enough and a lot cheaper in the long run than visiting a salon for every trim. This past weekend was our second attempt at shearing the boy’s strands. Which means we may have gotten a bit cocky with the equipment.
All was going well at first. A simple buzz through with the razor and accompanied length attachment makes the job almost idiot proof. Until I starting thinking we were the next step to professionals.
“There’s an ear-trimming attachment here. We didn’t use it last time and the hair around his ears bothered me. Why don’t we try it?”, I suggested to J. Famous last words.
Really, it didn’t come out that bad. If you don’t pay any attention to the giant bald spot on the left side of his head, anyway. I’m sure it can be covered up with a hat. Or big pretty bow. Maybe he’ll start a new trend for the elementary set. I’m just hoping it grows back a bit in the few weeks left before school starts.
On the plus side, there’s no hair around his ears to bother me now.
June 22 2010
A few months back, J took Jedi on his first real movie theater outing to watch Avatar in 3D. I was expecting the worst, but was pleasantly surprised when they came back smiling, saying they had a great time. J thought he’d brave the same experience with Buzz yesterday evening, for Toy Story 3.
It didn’t go as well.
In fact, they left the movie early. Not too early, but before the end. Apparently, my sensitive, tender son began to scream when he thought his favorite cowboy toy was getting hurt. I think it was Woody. Could have been Lightyear. All I know is, my Buzz didn’t appreciate it. Or so I’ve been told. J would get him calmed down, stuff his maw with Reese’s Pieces, just to have him start screaming again a short time later.
“Oh, well, his concern is kind of cute”, I said in response.
J, giving me a dirty look, “No, it wasn’t.”
Buzz then came home to have an hour-long fit of magnificent proportions.
Good times!
It’s safe to say this will be his one and only theater experience for awhile longer. Obviously, he’s just not ready. I’m sure he’ll love the movie if given a chance, we’ll just have to wait until it comes out on DVD. That way, he can scream as loudly as he wants in the privacy of his own home like normal.
February 05 2010
Mistake #1 was giving my daughter a chocolate chip cookie.
I didn’t think she’d eat it, though. She’s still not very fond of feeling anything with texture on her tongue. Figuring she’d get bored of it in 5 minutes, I gave it to her for something to hold in her hand. I watched her for a few minutes with it, until I was content enough that she wouldn’t try to jam the entire thing down her throat.
Mistake #2 was forgetting that I gave my daughter the cookie.
More time elapsed until Jedi came out, with a look of disgust. That isn’t saying a lot, however, since the boy has the gag reflex of a fly. “Abby has something on her hands!”
Her hands? Oh, right. She still has that? “It’s just cookie”, I told him nonchalantly as I returned to checking on twitter what I was doing.
“Just go see!”, he urged.
Always one to oblige, I put my laptop down put a halt to the important matter I was attending to and went back to where they had been playing. There, I found my darling Abby. Covered in mushy cookie remnants and a look of “what the hell?”. All over her face and between her fingers and down her pink shirt. I grabbed a towel to wipe her clean and that’s when I saw the rest of the cookie. Chocolate chip tracks smeared across my bed.
Lesson learned, indeed.
