And so he does. And it is good.
...Sometimes.
I've never talked about my bedroom, because let's be honest. That's weird.
I love my bedroom for a bunch of reasons! It's actually my favorite room in the house. I decided years ago that my bedroom should be like a Motel room. Like the Ritz! Decorated. Clean. Attractive.
Then I had kids and it somehow converted itself into a used up Motel 6 with no room service and bad towels.
Awe. Children are miracles! Aren't they?
Frequently, and lately I have had moments of hysteria where I walk into my peaceful room and see horrible things happening.
Teenagers. Plural. Definitely more than one. Like they multiply in the middle of the night.
They are in my room. They are in my bed.
THEY ARE IN MY ROOM IN MY BED!
You know when you forget to put the lid on the blender before you push the button?
It's like that in my head.
"Why are you in my room? Why, WHY are you in MY bed?" I ask trying to remain calm.
Calm down. Just calm down.
"Let's just think this through. Shall we?" I start explaining to the half listening teenagers. "This is a 6 bedroom house. You each have beds that you can sit and sleep in. There are three other TVs as well. You don't need Mom and Dads." I'm ranting at this point but I don't care so I continue, "You realize that we don't just lounge in your room? In your bed?. Hello...!"
One of them looks and me and back to the TV. The other nicely says, "Oh. Hey Mom." They actually don't here any of the words coming out of my mouth.
How can they not hear me? This is where I reflect back to my behavior in my own teenage years and I want to punch myself in the face.
I walk out only because wrapping them in a shower curtain and rolling them down a deep canyon is most likely considered a felony. That and I like my shower curtain. I want to keep that.
This behavior slowly becomes a daily thing until the unthinkable happens.
Mr. Molly Mormon and I walk in our bedroom to find the same situation. This time...there is food.
THEY ARE EATING FOOD IN MY BED!
Have you ever slept with crumbs? It's weird. That is all I have to say about that.
I skip the previously repeated daily rant and go right to..."FOOD? You have food in my bed!?? Do we not have a kitchen table? Do we just eat where ever we want?"
They hear me now. My voice has reached levels that only dogs and certain instruments at NASA can hear.
"We are not beasts of the field! We don't EAT where we SLEEP!" I feel the irrationality and take a deep breath.
That's when I find the solution. I know exactly what to say. I look at Mr. Molly Mormon with a slightly sick and maniacal smile.
Oh, yeah! This is happening.
"Hey girls?" I say as they are surprisingly both looking at me at the exact same time.
"Do you know what Dad and I DO in that bed?"
The looks on their faces. The utter disgust. The literal jump out of my bed as if it was somehow burning their very skin.
I've never seen Cocoa Puffs move that fast!
Not only their body language, but the words they are saying regarding what kind of truth I had just opened to their naive imaginations and their faces distorted like they just tasted a mouthful of bitter reality.
It was the most full-filling 30 seconds of my life.
Problem. Solved.
Back to the Ritz, Baby! Sleep well everyone!
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