Joyce forwarded me this video.
As my bride and I watched, we gasped for breath (out of both laughter and shock). Then we reminisced about the misadventures of our own kids.
To this day we still wonder whose idea it was to "gas up" the house. The prime suspects are our two youngest, James and Ben (ages four and three at the time). But regardless, someone got the bright idea of "gassing up" the house (just as Dad puts gas in the car) by shoving the garden hose up the dryer vent, opening the spigot, and then wandering away until Mom enters the garage and finds water flowing out of the dryer. The kids had apparently assumed that their "gas" pump (like the one at the filling station) would turn itself off whenever it reckoned the house was full. Whether the kids actually waded across the flooded garage floor, or (like the Children of Israel at the Red Sea) passed dry-shod ere the waters came crashing, we know not. But in any case the boys were safe on the Sinai side before Mom's wrath disturbed the sea.
Weeks later the dryer began squeaking and was doing a less than a stellar job of drying clothes (which for an appliance bearing the name of "dryer" is a major disadvantage), so I disconnected the vent hose from the dryer and (as when Moses struck the Rock at Meribah) copious amounts of water gushed forth. Our little gremlins had been at it again. But as before, the detection of their vandalism was long past the statutory limit of the half-life of a preschooler's memory. So as I say, we may never know to which of our offspring we owed the replacement dryer.
Some time after James and Ben fueled up the house (we will continue to presume their guilt until they are proved innocent), perhaps in attempt to redeem themselves from their soaking of the dryer, the two younger sons got the inspired idea that they could help Mom clean the kitchen. Unfortunately, their good deed involved an entire bottle of dishwashing soap and every towel in the house, put to the task of swabbing the frothy kitchen floor. Question: Isn't it the height of irony that one always seems to get off scott free when doing "bad" well, but is invariably caught red-handed when doing "good" poorly?
As Joyce and I reminisced about our own parenting shortcomings, we took comfort in the failings of a friend and neighbor. Joyce told me about an incident her friend May recently shared. It seems May's pre-school grandson found a green permanent marker and a tad too much unsupervised time on his hands. I suspect (given a colored marker) a little girl would have proceded to paint her toe nails, but May's grandson (being all boy) was naturally drawn to another appendage that required colorizing. When May discovered him, he'd just finished disguising his little Vienna sausage as a gherkin.
Sometimes I'm amazed any kids have survived our parenting.
As my bride and I watched, we gasped for breath (out of both laughter and shock). Then we reminisced about the misadventures of our own kids.
To this day we still wonder whose idea it was to "gas up" the house. The prime suspects are our two youngest, James and Ben (ages four and three at the time). But regardless, someone got the bright idea of "gassing up" the house (just as Dad puts gas in the car) by shoving the garden hose up the dryer vent, opening the spigot, and then wandering away until Mom enters the garage and finds water flowing out of the dryer. The kids had apparently assumed that their "gas" pump (like the one at the filling station) would turn itself off whenever it reckoned the house was full. Whether the kids actually waded across the flooded garage floor, or (like the Children of Israel at the Red Sea) passed dry-shod ere the waters came crashing, we know not. But in any case the boys were safe on the Sinai side before Mom's wrath disturbed the sea.
Weeks later the dryer began squeaking and was doing a less than a stellar job of drying clothes (which for an appliance bearing the name of "dryer" is a major disadvantage), so I disconnected the vent hose from the dryer and (as when Moses struck the Rock at Meribah) copious amounts of water gushed forth. Our little gremlins had been at it again. But as before, the detection of their vandalism was long past the statutory limit of the half-life of a preschooler's memory. So as I say, we may never know to which of our offspring we owed the replacement dryer.
Some time after James and Ben fueled up the house (we will continue to presume their guilt until they are proved innocent), perhaps in attempt to redeem themselves from their soaking of the dryer, the two younger sons got the inspired idea that they could help Mom clean the kitchen. Unfortunately, their good deed involved an entire bottle of dishwashing soap and every towel in the house, put to the task of swabbing the frothy kitchen floor. Question: Isn't it the height of irony that one always seems to get off scott free when doing "bad" well, but is invariably caught red-handed when doing "good" poorly?
As Joyce and I reminisced about our own parenting shortcomings, we took comfort in the failings of a friend and neighbor. Joyce told me about an incident her friend May recently shared. It seems May's pre-school grandson found a green permanent marker and a tad too much unsupervised time on his hands. I suspect (given a colored marker) a little girl would have proceded to paint her toe nails, but May's grandson (being all boy) was naturally drawn to another appendage that required colorizing. When May discovered him, he'd just finished disguising his little Vienna sausage as a gherkin.
Sometimes I'm amazed any kids have survived our parenting.
7 comments:
OH MY! That is priceless. So far we have not had any "garden hose" incidents or "gerkin" mishaps, but mercy those are funny. Our have so far consisted of verbal stuff that just makes us laugh until we are sick.
Bwa ha!! We used to call one of my cousins "Lil Smoky" because he used to walk around with one hand down his pants and the other hand holding a cocktail weenie. They had a difficult time breaking him of the frequent compulsion to check to make sure his own Lil Smoky was still down there.
I always laughed at my son when he was a baby because it was like a built-in toy that us girls never knew anything about. LOL
LOL!!!
My sister took a tub of vaseline to the playroom walls and doors... all lovely wood at the time.. not yet painted or varnished...
Then she took a ball point pen to the brand new white leather sofa...
Then, she didn't feel like napping, so she took her little left handed paper scissors and cut her hair off.
Yes, she was a handful. Umm... still is!
I think every family has one or two "incidents" like this. Why do kids insist on smearing whatever it is on their entire body?
But, my favorite part of that video was the shower stall FULL of suds. Partly because I'd love to flop around in all those bubbles myself, but also because while it may be the cleanest of all the disasters, it is perhaps the one of the hardest to clean up. The more you rinse, the more bubbles appear!
My beloved wife pointed out, the really scary segment is the kid in the crib (toward the end of the clip). Just exactly what is that brown slime the little boy has smeared everywhere? I mean, we never put our kids to bed with a bowl of chocolate pudding.
Hula sent me to see this video and read about the Vienna sausage that now looks like a gherkin, etc. I have to say, this is the hardest I've laughed in a while. Thanks for that! I usually laugh so hard at Hula Boy too and I've met him in person when I've stayed at their house and I am witness that Hula does not exaggerate when it comes to HB - he is a hoot and so lovable. HG is wonderful.
Hula says hello!
I will be back...
I am literally crying...My co-workers will surely think I am having happy-juice with my lunch. Thank you so much!
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