So, I couldn't put this on my Easter post because, well, I just didn't want to wreck the whole holiday by grossing everyone out. Of course, now you have to read this one first, since that is the way they are posted on the blog, but, after you get grossed out, you can read about our Easter and feel better.
Yesterday morning, I was awakened by Brady standing at the side of my bed trying to hand me something. I had not heard him get up, and, when this happens, he is usually handing me a glass of water which inadvertently gets dumped on me as he hands it over. In my sleep fogged wakefulness, I realized he was handing me something and immediately started to sit up and take it from him to avoid an early morning bath in bed. However, once I realized what he had in his hands, I immediately began to freak out, yelling, crying, and screaming enough to cause Travis to bolt straight out of bed. Of course, he did not have his contacts in and his glasses were no where to be found, so he managed to stumble around the bedroom yelling "What! What! What!" Until I managed to choke out that Brady had just handed me Dorothy.
I thought he had killed her. However, once my immediate panic eased off a bit, I looked at her, trying to think of a way to explain to Bryce that his beloved fish, whom he has been praying so hard for and who we thought was going to make it, was now dead, thanks to his ever mischievous brother. As I gazed down on her, I realized she was trying to flop in my hands and her gills were moving. I raced into the living room and saw pandemonium exploding around me (Travis was frantically trying to find a bowl, but couldn't see a darn thing. Brady was climbing BACK onto the chair he used to commit his crime, and Bryce was crying about his fish. I ran to the tank and carefully slipped Dorothy back in. She swam over to one corner of the tank and stayed there most of yesterday. We didn't think that she would make it even through last night, but she is still swimming around in her tank. She looks like absolute HELL, but she is a survivor! Since fantails tend to live 15 to 20 years, we have decided that, if she does survive Brady, he is going to owe her big time!!
So, apparently twine does not work on chairs. We now have a ratcheting tie down strap wrapped around the entire table and chairs. There is NO WAY the kid can get them free, now. Between that, the things we now have to have on all doors leading to the outside so that he can not open them and escape, the fridge doors are tied shut, the bi-fold pantry doors are locked, every cupboard and drawer has a lock on it and every single stinking outlet is covered. Pretty soon, you will need a background check to move through my house if this kid does not settle down and behave himself! *sigh*
Yesterday morning, I was awakened by Brady standing at the side of my bed trying to hand me something. I had not heard him get up, and, when this happens, he is usually handing me a glass of water which inadvertently gets dumped on me as he hands it over. In my sleep fogged wakefulness, I realized he was handing me something and immediately started to sit up and take it from him to avoid an early morning bath in bed. However, once I realized what he had in his hands, I immediately began to freak out, yelling, crying, and screaming enough to cause Travis to bolt straight out of bed. Of course, he did not have his contacts in and his glasses were no where to be found, so he managed to stumble around the bedroom yelling "What! What! What!" Until I managed to choke out that Brady had just handed me Dorothy.
I thought he had killed her. However, once my immediate panic eased off a bit, I looked at her, trying to think of a way to explain to Bryce that his beloved fish, whom he has been praying so hard for and who we thought was going to make it, was now dead, thanks to his ever mischievous brother. As I gazed down on her, I realized she was trying to flop in my hands and her gills were moving. I raced into the living room and saw pandemonium exploding around me (Travis was frantically trying to find a bowl, but couldn't see a darn thing. Brady was climbing BACK onto the chair he used to commit his crime, and Bryce was crying about his fish. I ran to the tank and carefully slipped Dorothy back in. She swam over to one corner of the tank and stayed there most of yesterday. We didn't think that she would make it even through last night, but she is still swimming around in her tank. She looks like absolute HELL, but she is a survivor! Since fantails tend to live 15 to 20 years, we have decided that, if she does survive Brady, he is going to owe her big time!!
So, apparently twine does not work on chairs. We now have a ratcheting tie down strap wrapped around the entire table and chairs. There is NO WAY the kid can get them free, now. Between that, the things we now have to have on all doors leading to the outside so that he can not open them and escape, the fridge doors are tied shut, the bi-fold pantry doors are locked, every cupboard and drawer has a lock on it and every single stinking outlet is covered. Pretty soon, you will need a background check to move through my house if this kid does not settle down and behave himself! *sigh*
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