welcome to the jungle, we've got fun and games

Sometimes you hear "I'm gonna kick you in the va-CHINA!" coming from the other room, and you just have to wonder - where did I go wrong?

When the highlight of the day is #1 stabbing #2 in the back with a pencil, call it as a sign from above to pack it in early. Some other notable events involved an entire container of powder, and something getting stuck in some one's hair that necessitated removal by haircut. All in all, considering there was one "dog attack" (a seven month old puppy jumped up and ever-so-lightly grazed Sophia resulting in a 45 minute crying jag worthy of an Emmy or an Oscar at the very least), the day was surprisingly almost entirely bloodless. That being said, there was one more little thing that just made my weekend a little super-fantastically more complete. The weekly washing of the BIG BLUE BLANKIE. There are just certain things in this life that are synonymous with an ever-looming feeling of, well, dread. Tax time, cleaning out the fridge, the always pleasant January first marathon 24 hour extravaganza of dieting, not punching people in the face, and saying friggin instead of fucking. I have to honestly say that I am fairly certain that I dread this event more than all of these things combined.

Let my preface this by saying that BIG BLUE BLANKIE is neither big, nor blue, although it is, in fact, a blanket. It is pink and green, and I must have been hiding in the bathroom or crying in the closet when it was dubbed BIG BLUE, because I can't remember the naming ceremony. At any rate, by Friday this thing is so encrusted in chocolate and boogers that we use salad tongs to pick it up. We don't launder it on Friday after school because that is usually when we sit on the couch and cry for a few hours while we reminisce about our week. Being the procrastinators that we are, we throw the thing in the wash at around...well...right now. Then we go over to our tape recorder and press play and listen to a voice that says "Why the hell did we wait till now to wash it? It's 7:44 on a Sunday night! This kid needs to get to bed!" then we press stop, and then on the next Sunday we press play again anywhere between 7:00p.m. and midnight. And to add insult to injury, if I had a quarter for every time the kid said "I want my BIG BLUE BLANKIE" I would have $13.75...probably enough to buy an extra one to have on hand. Fun times....good, good times.