Monday, July 12, 2010

Snacksaphone

Bean has requested Wendy's Chili and Oranges for lunch. So, loving the fact that her little one would rather eat chili and oranges than chicken nuggets and french fries, Mommy agrees and they stop off at Wendy's after a trip to the library. They purchase the kids meal at the drive through and take it home to eat.

Bean: "Mommy, can I have the prize now?"

Mommy: Not till we get home and I make sure it is a safe toy."

By "safe" Mommy means quiet. Mommy doesn't need anymore noise in her life, so she weeds it out where she can.

They get home and Mommy pulls out the toy from the bag. It is a kazoo which is shaped like a saxaphone. Mommy debates giving it to Bean but she's pretty sure he won't be able to figure out how to use it. Mommy is very, very wrong. It take Bean all of two seconds to figure out how to use the kazoo saxaphone. After his lunch he walks around the house playing his kazoo as loud as humanly possible.

Bean: (Marching though the house, grinning ear to ear he asks proudly) "Mommy! Does my snacksaphone play beautiful music?"

Mommy: (Cringing at the ear piercing music and watching Goobs as he is putting his own lips together and blowing as if he also has a "snacksaphone" she shouts over the noise) "Yes honey. Beautiful music."

Mommy knows that if she were to take it away from him while he is having so much fun just because it made a little noise she would without a doubt be the worst mother in the world. So she decides to let him keep it, for now. She is hoping that soon he will grow tired of it.

Fast forward to the next morning. The snacksaphone was by Bean's bed all night and was the first thing he asked for in the morning and began playing it immediately. Now everyone has breakfasted, Daddy is off to work and Mommy is racking her brain for a way to get the snacksaphone away from Bean without ripping it from his cheerful, happy fingers. They are upstairs putting away laundry when Mommom calls. Mommy is talking on the phone while Bean is in his room playing his snacksaphone. Goobs has crawled into the hallway and is sitting in Bean's doorway. Bean is standing at his door. He slams it. It just misses Goobs. Bean opens his door.

Mommy: "Bean! Don't you slam that door. Your brother is right there. You could hit him. DO NOT SLAM THAT DOOR AGAIN!"

Bean looks at right at Mommy and with the i'm three now and i can do whatever i want stare, he slams the door before Mommy has a chance to catch it or move Goobs. This time, he hits Goobs square on the head.

Goobs: (Wailing and screaming)

Mommy: (Drops the phone with Mommom on the other end, grabs Goobs and begins kissing and consoling him. Goobs stops crying rather quickly making Mommy suspect that he didn't really get hit all that hard and that maybe he is starting to perfect the younger child "oh my older brother hurt me so much" cry. Mommy continues consoling him none the less until he has settled down. Bean is looking very guilty, but not all that remorseful) "Bean! You hit Goobs on the head. Why did you do that? I told you not to slam your door!

Mommy stops. Usually this is where time outs come in. But wait. It hits her. The snacksaphone! This is just the thing she has been waiting for.

Mommy isn't happy that poor Goobs had to suffer so, but she is very happy that the snacksaphone has been put away. For today anyway.

A note to readers. Goobs was in fact fine. The door didn't even leave a mark. I dedicate this post to Goobs. Thanks for taking one for the team buddy.






















































4 comments:

  1. Smart move, Mama!
    Knowing Goobs, he was probably trying to help you out, placing himself in harms way JUST to end the music.

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  2. Hmmm... that "my older sibling hit me in the head and now I need attention" gig must be genetic.. it sounds very familiar. Ouch! My sister just hit me in the head where I had brain surgery... I need to stay home from school.. sunday school.. doing Saturday chores. Oh Goobs! I can't wait until he can talk and tell us what he is thinking!

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  3. Oh, the cries of the younger sibling get so much more sophisticated than the cried of the eldest. My daughter will limp over to me, gasping, "Milo hurt my foot..." before collapsing on the floor, weeping as if she's just learned she'll never walk again...

    And good one, Goobs! Way to help mommy out!

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  4. That is one of the greatest parenting stories I've ever read. Three cheers for Goobs!

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