Beware the email that arrives offering a “volunteer opportunity.” No good can come from it.

The father figure is most likely going to get the last laugh here. In the last three days, I rescued a particular carton of eggs from X-Man not once, not twice but three times. The carton is not made of candy. It does not hold toy cars. It’s just a boring egg carton, with eggs in it. At least there were. This last morning I ran laundry upstairs only to return to find X-Man with the empty carton of eggs.  It was empty because he had thrown not one, not two but four eggs on the floor. The boy has a good arm on him. Especially when cheered on by Cinco.

He seemed genuinely shocked and offended that I stuck him in the corner.  I was genuinely shocked and offended that he had ignored my increasingly stern warnings to leave the contents of the refrigerator in the refrigerator.  Cinco decided that she should climb in the dishwasher.

We live in a quiet neighborhood inhabited by retirees. The weather’s been beautiful and we’ve all ventured outdoors. One neighbor lady walked over to chat about how bad the dandelions are this year. Apparently they’ve all taken pity on me and my war on the weeds. As we were chatting Mac bounded up and said “Hi Mrs. Gail!” I was proud of him and the good manners he exhibited. I mean, not only are we the random family with children in the neighborhood, we are also homeschoolers and there are a chaotic amount of children for the one house. So I most definitely want them to come across as respectful and pleasant.  He continued on his conversation with her “Our brother is named X-Man and mommy is potty training him. If he goes poop in the potty she gives him chocolate. So far he’s done it once today.”  All the news that’s fit to share…..and then some.