A Very Full Casa!

Hola Wild Boy followers! I apologize profusely for missing a week here. Oh wait, you didn't even notice, did you? Shame on you all. Now I'll sit here and cry a bit. Oh the betrayal. Oh the heartache. Why? Whyyyyyyyy? See? Suddenly you don't feel so bad about missing a week do you? I'm masterful at blame shifting...just ask the cop.

Anyhow, in all seriousness I opted to take a week off because one of my Wild Girl's was in town. That's right, one of my daughters made her way home for a visit all the way from the Midwest, and she brought HER little Wild Girl with her. Which meant our oldest boy (he's really the only tame one in the bunch) also came home to visit and suddenly I went from the two littlest Wild Boys to four of our wild children at home, plus a wild grandchild. And if you think that's confusing to read, you should try managing it in a household. Dinner for four becomes "yes, invite them over too!" and suddenly it's dinner for ten. Grocery shopping necessitates two carts. This though, works out splendidly when I'm standing in front of the milk cooler and the snotty lady behind me tells me she needs me to move so she can "grab something really quick." As if I'm just setting up shop there, loading entire carts out of the milk section or something, taking hours while she wastes away behind me waiting for what we all know is going to be some pint (because you're obviously single, bitter bear) of nonfat organic hmo free soy milk. But I'm not cruel. So I took my smaller cart and moved to the side, and watched her look around all irritated for who owned the second cart that was blocking her. Then I watched her try to move the heavy cart on her own and determine she couldn't. Guess she should work out something besides that scowl someday, huh? And then, the humbling realization that she's going to have to ask me to move it for her...beautiful.  I resisted the temptation to ask if she needed help lifting that pint of non-milk crap, because I'm not vindictive like that.

So, more of the kiddos were home to visit for about a week, and it was fantastic.  It's always a nice reminder that kids will eventually grow up and be cool to hang out with, and there is a light at the end of the 18 year long tunnel. I will say, however, that hanging with your adult kids DOES mean that they eat more, they drink your booze, and you will still have to render fiber related aid once one of them who shall remain nameless realizes how much meat they've consumed over a several day period and how long it's been since they last went poo...But that's fine too. Because when it's all said and done I'm still a mom, and if nobody needed me I'd probably have to adopt a ton of special needs cats and learn how to crochet them sweaters or some such nonsense.

And grandkids? Oh people, that is the mother lode. See, we have four. All in the Midwest, so very very far away. When we get to indulge it's like a lava eruption of every food they aren't usually allowed, no bedtimes, sure you can use the hose, yes we have a big wheel you can ride down wildly steep hills, and OF COURSE you can have whatever you want. The cop is the biggest sucker of a grandpa I've ever seen. Lady Jay, our Wild Granddaughter, may not come down off her sugar high for a full week after landing at her airport back home. Although after a week with the Wild Boys she may just sleep for a month anyhow. On their final night here she burst through the back door soaking wet shouting "CHAOS!!! IT'S CHAOS!!!" Followed immediately by a wet and muddy Gabe, then Gav who ran in yelling "Whatever they tell you, I can explain!"

They all left on Wednesday, just in time to avoid the 110 degree surprise June heat wave.  And now I have about a million dishes to wash, but only half as much laundry as usual since the Wild Boys have worn little more than swimsuits for days now. Grossly, only a couple of swimsuits, since they argue that being in the pool five hours a day cleans the suits (even grosser is their argument that daily swimming counts as bathing - Gav will be rocking some punk green hair for a while).  I'm not one to throw stones though, since the cop and I have been in full gear and Kevlar for the heat wave and the smell that's coming from our uniforms could probably be bottled and sold as a chemical weapon at this point.  On that note, I'm off to clean.

Until next time, happy cleaning from La Casa!





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