Last night I was attempting to sew in the craft room while they played in their adjoining playroom. Husband was home and attempting to work in his workshop. Herein lies the problem. One parent attempting productivity is a joke. Both parents trying to get things done at the same time becomes a standoff.
Husband shrouds himself in a super sonic blocker that screens out all sounds coming from anyone under the age of 21. It's also been known to screen wife's voice when it reaches a certain screechy pitch. And wife (that's me) begins to sound more and more like David's Spade receptionist character from SNL. Because children are sooo responsive to sarcasm., "And you are.....?" "And you would need a new sippy because...?"
So when the kids kept running into the very small craft room near the hot iron I tried to warn them.
The first 5 warnings sounded like this;
Oh my goodness this hot iron will surely burn you angels if you come into this room.
Gracious! Don't come near this hot iron because it would really, really hurt.
Oh baby, mommy would be so sad to see your pretty hands get burned!
Where's daddy pumpkins? Go find daddy?
The next 5 warmings were more like this;
Dudes! This iron will burn your faces and you'll never get a date.
Do you see all those toys in the other room? Knock yourself out.
HOT!! IRON!! Assh..,um KIDS!
Phissss, Phissss! (The pretend hissing sound I made as I picked up the iron and pretended to shoot steam at them).
Husband and I then struck a deal that I would get an hour by myself to finish making some Christmas gifts and then I would put the kids to bed so he could
So I closed the door (gasp!) and shoved a chair under the knob. Not but a minute late the children were bodily throwing themselves against it and urgently yelling;
Kids: (Together) Mommeeeeeee, Mommeeee!
Me: (Flinging door open) What!?
Kids: Can we..um wait a minute I forgot...um, um...oh yea...can we go swimming?
Like I said, Yippie-yi-yo-ki-yay Motherfuckers!