I'm pretty convinced it is because my kids, particularly of the three year old variety, transformed into werewolves the moment their feet hit the floor this morning. Every.little.thing was a battle today (It took 20 minutes just to get Calen's socks on for school).
And then I get informed by his teacher this afternoon that he was "WILD" and was put in timeout. At school.
I'm pretty sure his teacher saw the corner of my eye involuntarily twitch when she said that.
His punishment was the ceremonial removable of every single toy car and train in the house...imprisoned into the closet until he gets a GOOD report from his next school day....on Tuesday. And thus I screwed myself into having to explain every.fifteen.minutes for the next four days as to why he can't have any cars and no he can't have motorcycles and yes Lego cars do count and you can't have them and no you can't go to school today to get that good report.
There isn't enough caffeine or hard liquor in this world.
So then I had to get creative ideas to keep the werewolf busy. And no amounts of Playdoh, felt playsets or Legos (without lego cars) could keep him satisfied and cure him of his snarling pissy rabid dog attitude.
So I threw him in the bathtub.
I love baths. They contain the wild things and they cannot escape. They're like little liquid prisons. AND I'M THE WARDEN.
(and they think it's fun. And I think it's fun because I can sit on the bathroom floor and play Angry Birds or Burger or some other stupid game on my phone).
And today we gave the prisoner/werewolf bathtub foam in an attempt to keep him in the tub even longer so that I could keep him contained.
And so that I could beat my Angry Birds score.
I'm the warden. I can do what I want.
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| Werewolves in prison. Sounds like the title of a new trendy novel series. I could make millions. |
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