The girlios are grounded for the next few days. Not just plain ol’ regular grounded, but BIG TIME grounded. I’m not going to go into details about why they are grounded. To make a long and boring story short they lied a big time lie to their mom. There will be no Oceans of Fun this week. There will be no electronic devices including video games, ipods, and tv. This will make for an interesting (and hopefully) peaceful few days. I am not a fan of the video games. They each have their own, but they share the games that go in them, and after about one car ride I usually take them away because they are fighting over them or will not control the volume. I don’t care about their ipods usually. Hannah Montana sounds so much better when I can barely hear her. There is a but however. There always is. Taylor rarely uses her ipod, preferring my music to hers (this is what I choose to believe). This creates chaos in my car. Why? Tiffany likes to sing along with Hannah Montana, and when you combine this with Ladysmith Black Mambazo and Taylor’s attempt at singing along with them you have the sudden need to jump out the window fast. So am I happy about the no ipod rule? Yes. T.V. doesn’t usually bother me either. The only time they watch any is in the morning or when I hand it out like it’s a privilege. I admit that there has been a time or two that I have turned it on to distract them, but that was when the washing machine broke or I had a floor to scrub. Even if I am not watching it, I am usually the first to tire of it. I am fine with the Backyardigans. I also, begrudgingly, let them watch Sponge Bob. I do this because they love the stupid show. They LOVE it. If Dora comes on, however, I don’t care if the washing machine is overflowing. The tv is going OFF. I HATE Dora. Her voice is worse than the sound of 1000 lawn mowers making love with each other to the music of an ice cream truck.
Today has been peaceful so far. It’s been two hours and there has only been one incident of pinching. Because the girls are grounded they are required to stay within my sight for the entire day. Oddly enough they don’t mind this punishment. They are content to curl up with the dogs in a pile of coloring books, crayons and mushy tennis balls, moving the entire mess like a giant ranibow colored slug whenever I start another task. Occasionally I join the pile. If I do laundry they are given the strenuous task of folding socks. Strenuous? Surely not. Yes, strenuous. Robert has socks with varying stages of DSD. DSD is Degenerative Sock Disorder. If a sock with little or no elasticity ends up with a brand new sock the results require more work from the sock team (Tiff and Tay). It is somewhat similar to pairing an old woman with a young man or vice versus. One sock is going to get left behind (usually the older one), while the younger goes in search for a new mate. I kid you not, Robert does this. I have found old, single socks everywhere. He doesn’t mind holey underwear, but by God his socks better not have DSD.
I am also still sick today. Robert told me that if he finds out I have done anything (even laundry), he will dump a big cup of water on me (he is currently at an interview for school) . This creates a problem. I am A. not the type to sit around and B. itching to alphabetize. I do not know if anyone else shares this same itch, but it involves a strong desire to organize anything and everything into alphabetical order. Sometimes I will take apart a section of books: novels, memoirs, poetry and alphabetize them by the author’s middle name (this involves research), and at the end of the day put them back the way they were. The linen closet aka the toiletries closet has become a mess only spiders can love. The lavender shampoo is crammed up next to the secret (ok not so secret) stash of sugar scrub, and GASP Robert’s manly stuff has invaded the corner reserved just for flashy pink hair products.
My desk is also needing TLC. Not necessarily alphabetical TLC, just some leveling and perhaps a team of professionals specializing in hazardous waste. I’m fairly certain that it’s more than abc gum that binds the mountain of books, cds, and papers together. When I found my mouse the other day I realized I had no place for it. Thanks to a book in my lap the problem is temporarily solved. But something needs to be done soon or I will have to relocate to the floor. You know, now that I think about it that’s not such a bad idea.
