Friday, January 8, 2010

Just another day here at the Cleaver house...



I present you with two scenarios, typical of daily life here in the very Cleaver-esque EW household (would you expect anything less?):

First scenario: The kids have been non-stop bickering all day. This bickering escalates considerably when I demand gently suggest with kisses and hugs and promises of cookies and pony rides that the children clean up their playroom. I mistakenly tell them to do this together. When they initially refuse, I threaten to sell them to a band of gypsies remind them that Ward will give them a talking to if he sees that their playroom is a shit hole in disarray. Eventually they comply because they don't want to lose their videogames hate to disappoint us. (*Note: I suppose June would happily tidy the toy room herself, all while keeping her coif neatly in place and her dress maintaining the appearance of being freshly pressed. Fuck you, June. I am sick to death of bending over 10,000 times a day to clean up legos that, when they're not painfully embedded in the heel of my foot, are so small they're nearly impossible to detect with the naked eye).

But if only it were that easy. Eventually, exasperated and sick of hearing exchanges such as "You're just a poo poo diaper baby." "No YOU'RE the poo poo diaper baby." "Mom! Maggie called me a poo poo diaper baby!" I repress the urge to scream "You're BOTH poo poo diaper babies!" and instead inform them both that they're no longer allowed to speak to each other ANYMORE. For the rest of their lives. To which Wally and the Beav respond with enthusiastic cheers of, "YAY!" while doing a sort of jig around the playroom. I should have seen that one coming.

Second scenario: The weekend. It's bedtime and the kids are having a camp-out style sleep-over in my room. As usual, they have refused to eat dinner, therefore their bedtime snack is restricted to fruit and dry cereal such as Cheerios. Maggie approaches me to ask for popcorn and cookies, a request which needless to say I deny. She informs me that her brother told her to demand that I provide them with popcorn and cookies and that if I refuse, to hit me. She relays this information to me with a look that clearly says that she understands that this is not advisable. At that point it becomes clear to me that Bear is pulling an "Eddie Haskell" by setting his sister up for his own amusement, and I imagine him in my bedroom suppressing snorts and giggles with his ear to my door in an attempt to eavesdrop on our exchange. I mean, who would want to miss out on that shit storm? "Dance, puppet, dance!" I imagine him thinking as Maggie set out on her mission. For him I guess it's a win-win situation. Either she comes back with cookies and popcorn, or he gets to see what happens when his baby sister tries to put the screws to their mother. Good times all around. Of course, Ward and I did give him a talking to.

I'll actually take these Stepford Children because they seem to be eating whatever it is that's on their plates without whining, crying, gagging, or lying prostrate on the floor.

15 comments:

Kristin said...

You mean it gets worse than my toddler shaking his finger at me and saying noooooooo?

Annika said...

Wait. Are you telling me that siblings don't always get along?

Maven said...

I love your blog and your writing style.

Especially love the poo poo diaper baby comment. I would really like to say that to a few choice people I know ;)

Nancy@ifevolutionworks.com said...

I could go for a little Clearverness myself!

Bathwater said...

You should hear the spawn I created arguing behind the alter known as Xbox. Tink swears I didn't beat them enough as infants.

When they hit puberty and their voices get deeper it just means they are louder!

Existential Waitress said...

Kristen, oh yes - it gets worse! Your little guy is still at the "cute" stage.

Annika, you are really in for it. ;) But the flipside is how absolutely ADORABLE it is when they get along. My kids are actually best-friends, and with the two year age difference they have so much in common, it's just a joy to watch them interact. You'll have a blast with your two little ones as they grow up together!

Maven, thank you for such a nice compliment! And I too have entertained calling a few people poo poo diaper babies myself lately!

Amie said...

I love how Bear sends in Maggie to do the dirty work. Ah big brothers rule.

Existential Waitress said...

Nancy, if only we were the Cleavers...I bet Wally and the Beav always ate June's carefully prepared, nutritionally well-rounded meals.

Bathwater, my kids are already beating each other up over the wii, I'm fearful of the day when they REALLY start to go at it b/c "poo poo diaper baby" is child's play so to speak.

A, Bear's not dumb. He now sends Maggs to ask EVERYTIME he wants something. John was seven years younger than me and I was the oldest, so I'm not used to this dynamic. It's HILARIOUS!

Naomi de la Torre said...

"you're a poo poo diaper baby...no you're a poo poo diaper baby." i can't get this out of my head and i've been laughing for hours now. you are hilarious.

Monique-aka-Surferwife23 said...

This is hysterical. How old are the said Clever kiddos? I am getting the impression tehy are about the same age as mine.

Martinis or Diaper Genies? said...

i would DEF tell them they were poo poo diapers and I know because they stink.
This is prob why I'm not a mom.

Existential Waitress said...

Monique, my daughter is 4 and my son is 6. How old are your's?

MODG, my husband and I sometimes DO secretly refer to them as poo poo diaper babies b/c every now and then they DO stink.

JennyMac said...

and one more reason to have only one child = no sibling rivalry! LOL.

Denise said...

just found your blog through Thetamom. really enjoy your posts--you've got a great voice.

Existential Waitress said...

Thanks, Denise - I appreciate the compliment!