Rugrats and Dirty Rugs

Today, I have endeavoured to cut Sleepy's hair. Doc and I got tired of astronomical fees we rack up for six men's hair cuts every two months, so he decided to get a haircut kit. He ended up buzzing his hair. It looks really nice, but his sons all had the same expression on their faces when they saw their father's new haircut. It was something like, "Why in the world would you do that to yourself?" This morning, Sleepy's hair was driving me crazy, so I marched him upstairs to my bathroom. I grabbed the scissors and the razor and set to work. I asked, "Sleepy? Would you like your hair buzzed like Daddy's?" He replied, "No. People will look at me and freak out." "I'm just not sure I can do this, honey. Mommy's not a professional, you know." "I'm going to Bella's house soon. She will look at me and not know who I am. She will wonder where Sleepy is." His hair turned out alright. He is still recogni...

I'm really picky when it comes to romantic movies. I prefer them clean and it's really hard to find those kind of romance movies these days. Nowadays, romantic movies are chock full of butts, boobs, and beds. Just sayin'. I was bored one day and decided to google the top romance movies of all time. You have got to be kidding me. One list had Brokeback Mountain on it. Pulease. I was, in fact, so disgusted by all of the lists that I came across that I decided to make my own. I decided to call it The Top 16 Clean Romance Movies of All Time, well, because I couldn't think of anymore to make it an even top 20. Now, my list might be different from most people. I said I was picky. First, I don't like b***** women. That scratches out a whole pile of popular movies. One of them being Gone With The Wind. Does anyone besides me want to smack that woman? Second, I don't like it when the couple end up in bed together. Uh, I don't really need to know, thankyouverymuch. Th...

We have a new president now. Bah. My husband is aware of my incandescent joy and consistently reminds me to be respectful of our president and that we must pray for him just as we did for the former. I reply, "Do I have to?" as I grudgingly concede that he is right. Last night, we were barely able to eat our dinner as we depressingly discussed Obama's first days in office. When Doc announced that our taxes are now going toward abortion, I wanted to vomit. This morning, my husband jokingly announced that he is going to pray for Obama the way they did in the movie Fiddler On The Roof. "May the Lord bless and keep the tsar...far away from us!" Amen.

I took my five boys to the store today to pick up a few things. I grabbed a cart, pushed it a little out of the way so that our entourage didn't hold up anyone who came in behind us, and put Sneezy in the front seat of the cart. I looked up to count and make sure my brood were with me when I noticed Sleepy a few feet in front of us looking around. He noticed a woman pushing a cart in his vicinity and naturally believing he had the right woman and the right cart, grabbed a hold of it, and began walking away with her. "Sleepy! Sleepy! SleEPY! SLEEPY!" Even calling his name loud enough to wake the dead, he didn't hear me and continued walking away with the strange woman. The woman noticed the ignorant child and stopped to look down at him with a gracious smile. Sleepy's brothers ran after him and told him of his mistake with much glee. When I reached my boy and saw the dawning realization cross his freckled face, the giggles got to me so badly that I was bent over...

This afternoon, I went into my bathroom to get ready to go to the store. I told my little shadow, Happy, that I would be out in a second and shut the door. Within moments, I heard the tell-tale thump, thump, thump of the creaking bed. "Are you jumping on my bed, boy?" "No." The thumping ends for a moment and begins again a second later. "Quit jumping on my bed!" He makes no mention that he heard me in order to continue the charade of not knowing what in the world mommy is talking about. Although, the thumping did stop. The child will be four years old very soon and has already learned the fine art of lying....without blinking an eye. I'm in trouble.

Sleepy was reciting his 5's and not enjoying it very much. "5, 10, 15, 20, 30...." "No, Sleepy, you forgot to say 25. Do it again," I said. I left him to his recitation with his father sitting on the couch listening. While I was doing some things around the house, Sleepy told his father this... "When I grow up, I'm going to be a policeman. When I catch a bad guy, I'm going to make him say his 5's. If he can't say them, I'm going to put him in jail." Funny kid.

Well, all, here's the rest of the Christmas story a little late. My husband bought Sleepy and Happy guns for Christmas. He bought Sleepy a Kentucky rifle and Happy a World War I action rifle with a powder horn. These guns are fake, but they don't look fake. These are the kind of guns that if they took them outside to play with, we would hear the screeching of tires and screaming from people passing by our house. They would be yelling, "Oh, my gosh! That kid's got a GUN!" They both thought the guns were pretty cool, but alas, six-year-old Sleepy has been bitten by the PS2 (Playstation 2) bug. We got him a couple games to play and now Bashful and Grumpy must share their precious new present (PS2) from Christmas. They are not exactly happy about that. To his older brothers, though, it is a right of passage, so they've been quite patient and understanding in showing their little brother the ropes.