The Banana Is Almost Squished!!

Before our first child was even born, we hired the BESTEST CHILDPROOFING COMPANY EVAH to come and lock down everything in Chez Veasey. And they did: in order to throw a used kleenex away you had to enter a six digit security code onto a stainless steel padlock and have your iris scanned. Every cabinet, every closet, every door, and every portal to an alternate universe (that would be the toilet seat) was rendered unassailable. There was not a sharp corner to be found anywhere in the apartment and all the window guards had window guards. You had to be strip searched to get anywhere near the Drano.

Banana is going to be five on Saturday and our standards have been lowered somewhat in the past four years. You can now open the refrigerator without having to provide five forms of ID, and as mentioned in a previous blog we saw the RETURN OF THE COFFEE TABLE. We stopped worrying about TOYS WITH SMALL PARTS and felt ok leaving the cough syrup in the medicine cabinet instead of contracting with the Brinks Truck each time The Spawn had colds.

In fact: this weekend we believed that I could go and WORK OUT (read: walking at a moderate pace to the strains of Hanson's MmmmBop) while Sexyhusbandomine took A SHOWER and The Spawn watched cartoons, ate cereal and basically hung out in our SAFE little universe.

Except The Banana decided she wanted to GET DRESSED-which was not part of the Master Plan. Neither was the fact that we had recently purchased new dressers from Ikea and in keeping with our new loosy-goosy attitude, had not secured them to the wall.

I admire the fact that Banana thought she had discovered A MORE EFFICIENT WAY OF REACHING HER UNDERWEAR. Why go to the trouble of moving the conveniently located stepstool over to the dresser when you can simply build a staircase by pulling out the bottom two drawers? I imagine that before the entire dresser fell over on top of her that she was congratulating herself on her ingenuity.

We were very lucky that Banana ended up with only a black eye and a few bad bruises. And the memory of her father coming to her aid: Naked and Sopping Wet with a chin half covered in shaving cream.

To sum up what we all learned:

-WORKING OUT is not worth losing a kid over. It's a sacrifice, but I am willing to give it up. Oh, sure I'll miss the sweating and the pain and the boredom: I'll just have to burn those calories being a Better Helicopter Mom. No one argue with me about this TOTALLY SELFLESS ACT.
-Sexyhusbandomine is now allowed to take baths only after the children are asleep. If he MUST shower while The Spawn are in his care, he must do so fully clothed. Which will save me the trouble of some laundry-so as you can see Banana got the Efficiency Gene from me.
-The Spawn must immediately RETURN TO THE BUBBLE.

That is all.