This morning, my darling, never-bad son decided to take his toolbox off of his toolbench (don't worry, they are the plastic kids' versions!), and dump it on the floor. He was happily tightening, loosening, hammering and sawing when Tiny Princess lost interest in being read to and slid off my lap and wandered over to the tool pile. Captain chaos qutie kindly showed her each tool and said "This is the hammer. You bang things with it" "these are the pliers. You ply with them" (very astute that boy of mine!) "these are the screws. They keep things together." and on and on for each item in the pile. Pretty soon, they were playing happily, each with their own tools and fasteners. The next thing I know, I hear "OW! OW! Stop it! Don't bang on people! Don't bang on me!" I looked over the half wall dividing my kitchen from the family room to see my sweet little rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed little girl pounding her brother on the head with the hammer quite happily and content that she was indeed "banging things"...
Rest assured that I was able to NOT laugh out loud, and stopped the horrible hammer-beating Capt was receiving. Princess received her discipline, apologized and then had to sit in the dreaded, but quite effective Quiet Chair. When she returned, she was much gentler, and only pulled the cats' whiskers twice before getting nipped on the back of her chubby little hand and stopping.
They are almost over their colds, and are at the point where they have coughs, and little bit of the sniffles, but don't feel icky, and so cannot understand why they are not allowed to just run rampant, but are reined in a bit. I do know that I am grateful for our satellite service and "Movie Time Monday" on the Disney Channel...we are watching Chicken Little this morning, and now that Princess is napping, it is much more calm and quiet...Captain is operating on Mr. Potato Head and just asked me "Where's his butt?" because the storage compartment door (conveniently located about where the trap-door on long johns would be) is constantly being removed by little hands, and he forgets where he puts it. He is already quite particular about said potato being put together the "right" way and does not like any deviation from the norm. His father and I take great delight in frustrating him by putting arms in nose and eye holes, and mouths on top of his head...we are such cruel parents.
In other news...we attended a weddign reception Saturday afternoon, and my children made laugh and laugh! We were seated with some friends of ours, an honorary aunt and uncle, and Captain was seated between BB and Aunt Ears (she's an audiologist). He spen the evening putting the moves on Aunt Ears, and as soon as the music started up and someone said "dancing" he was tugging on her hand and saying "let's dance!" He danced every dance but 2 slow song with her, totally monopolizing her (she's one of those tall, leggy blondes who's never struggled with not looking good. Ever.) and was very upset that he lost his partner for those 2 slow songs. He found a new partner who rejected him in favor of her own father was dejected until they decided to start playing "shooting", in which game they ran around the tables, laughing and moving their hands more like they were playing with an 80's style video game controller a la Atari...they were worn out, played out, tired out, but stuffed full of the best Mexican food I've had in quite some time, and it was wonderful.
Oh! In case you're wondering...the bride was radiant, the groom looked much more relaxed than at the ceremony, and it was a great party to celebrate the beginning of their new life together!
And now, my tummy says it is snack time, and so I'm going to find some food.