The average week sees me buying about thirty dollars worth of produce. My kids love fruit and are pretty open minded about vegetables, so I don't sweat the bill. And no, gardening is not in my future.
Occasionally, I get swept up in the moment and attempt to be a homemaker. I retrieved my beautiful cobalt blue bowl, a wedding gift--the last of of the set, darn children. I filled it with an assortment of bright green apples, oranges and bananas. It looked beautiful. I happily set it on the table, understanding that it would be raided by the children, most certainly, as it was so appealing. Shortly before lunch today, I discovered my lovely bowl, still on the table, but now each apple had a large X-Man sized bit out of it.
Not to be outdone, Cinco discovered that if she climbs two shelves in the pantry, she can get into the granola bars. She then sits in the pantry and gnaws the middle of the bar, until she has eaten through the wrapper and is free to nibble the bar. This actually works well, not choking-wise, as she has to gnaw the bar and can't get too large a bite. However, she's only able to consume a little bit before she must move on to a new package. I have three barely eaten granola bars now sitting on the counter. I'm thinking about taking them and the apples and making some sort of pathetic apple crisp or something.
Yesterday morning, for reasons only known to himself, Mac opened the bathroom door, locked it and then shut it. With no one in the bathroom. X-Man was the most put out by this as it interfered with his nap time stalling techniques of using the bathroom repeatedly. Also, Mac did this before anyone had brushed their teeth that morning. It was awesome. The father figure struggled to manipulate the wire hanger to open it. Oh sure, the exact same door knob downstairs popped open no problem, mostly likely due to the fact that the door wasn't shut. But practice as he did, the father figure had great difficulties unlocking the door. But triumph he did.
So as I was writing last night, Mac came down very somber. He looked at me briefly before dropping his head. He mumbled "The bathroom door is locked again." I spun around in my chair "ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!!!" He looked up, lip quivering and whispered "You totally fell for it."
I told the father figure I was amused by how well he pulled off his joke. His ability to not laugh was impressive. And yet I had the slight twinge that this ability might serve him too well and be the bane of my existence come the teenage years. It could get interesting.