Monday, December 5, 2011
A door slammed. Of course it was an upstairs door and I was downstairs. I knew Aaron had just gone upstairs, so I ran up there to see where he was (by the way--I hate having stairs--I was hoping I would get in shape, but no dice--turns out if you send your kids up and down the stairs to do things for you the whole exercise thing doesn't work). His bedroom door was open and he wasn't in it (bad news). My bedroom door was closed (potential bad news), but after a quick sweep of my bedroom, bathroom and closet (because he now thinks is fun to hang out in there) I determined he wasn't in my room (more bad news--but good news at the same time because that means he wasn't ruining MY stuff). I start questioning myself that he did in fact go upstairs, and thinking that I'm hoping I'm not going crazy--which despite my denial, I think most people know the truth. Anyhow, just as I'm determining that I may be crazy, the little monster walks out of his sister's room with three pieces of candy. I said, "where did you get that candy?" At that point his selective-hearing-sister comes running out of the room she was in and swipes it out of his hands so fast he didn't have time to put a death grip on it. She's irritated because he stole it, I'm irritated because I didn't know she had it (otherwise I would have gotten to it first), and Aaron is irritated because she ripped it out of his hands. I'm laughing on the inside because this incident solves a mystery that I've been facing the past couple of days. There have been candy wrappers on the floor around Aaron's computer, and I couldn't figure out where they came from. Now I know. The next time my daughter is out of the house Aaron and I are going to take a field trip into the abyss also known as her bedroom.