Yesterday, I was typing away and listening for screams or silence. Typical day. I hear the boys get into their piggy banks and just kind of yell, "Stop it! Put your money back!" A few minutes later I hear some kind of tearing. I go in to check on them and an entire box of packing peanuts has been dumped all over their room! And most of the box was dumped behind the bed. Here's how my brain responds:
I'm goING TO KILL...where's my camera?
So I had to bring in the shop vac. The giant R-2 Unit lookin' shop vac. Which I had to go out into the rain to get.
I started scooping up the mess into the box and discovered that underneath the peanuts were dimes and quarters. They had also dumped their piggy banks behind the bed. Which meant I had to push the packing peanuts around and find the change before I could vacuum.
I finally get all the change into the banks and all the styrofoam vacuumed up and start to put all the bedding back. (Did I mention I had to vacuum their beds?) I was looking for the all the paper money that was missing from the banks and asked Hartwell where he put it. Why, in the wipes, of course! They had emptied the baby wipes and filled it with cash and some change. (They seem to understand the value of a dollar these days).
I was pretty happy with myself for not totally exploding and screaming. Filled with my sense of self satisfaction, I walked by the living room and saw that they had somehow managed to get the box of packing peanuts into the living room and were throwing them all over.
I'm having another whoopie pie. I deserve it.
