So while driving the children to various activities, a warning light came on in the car. It was a newer message for me, Service Stability System. I was clueless as to what that meant. A little googling told me that that sort of message usually requires about $1200 to fix. The father figure was unimpressed with my hysterical phone call and refused to tell me which shop to take it to until he researched the matter a bit further. Something about having to know what the problem was in order to know where to take it. So he came home, did his own research and determined that the brake fluid needed topping off. To the tune of $3. The message disappeared.

No good comes from a hysterical mother googling. I had images of the car, carrying all five kids tipping over, having a stability system requiring service.  Google probably could see me, willing to spend anything to keep my poor minivan hostage children safe, and gleefully saw “SUCKER!!!!”

Or something.

Not that we saved any money. After a quick trip to the car parts store, it was off to Lowes. To spend zillions of dollars on repairs to the house, courtesy X-Man. We prudently decided on the cheapest toilet paper roll holder, as it primarily functions as that on which X-Man stands to look out the window. The window you can’t see out of as it is in the bathroom, but that doesn’t stop X-Man. Hope springs eternal I suppose. We also pick a cheap hand towel holder, as the nice one we bought broke under Cinco’s weight as she swung from it.

The father figure then proceeded to patch to hole in the ceiling, that came from X-Man’s numerous bathroom flooding’s. X-Man was excited to help the father figure; Cinco got her head stuck in the step stool. I’m taking bets on how long the new bathroom fixture last. I don’t anticipate X-Man flooding the bathroom anytime soon. Not due to the repercussions of his behavior, those seemed to make no impact. But now he’s no longer napping, and by napping I mean, sneaking out of his room while everyone else stays downstairs to keep it quiet.

Speaking of failing to properly respect naptime, Cinco can now climb out of her bed. She still sleeps in our room, again for the solitude that nap time requires. Only her naptime looks more like a hurricane, if hurricanes emptied drawers.  The phrase “no rest for the wicked” keeps running through

my mind. And as I’m the one not rested……..