Last week my sister called me up. She was remarkably calm and composed. I think she called me because it was a better idea than crying - you see, I can usually find a little humor in a bad situation... especially if I am removed from said bad situation by 500 miles.
You see, my sweet niece C (who is just 8... at least in human years) had been shopping with her grandmother and being a sweet grandmother she had gotten a surprise for C. Me? I usually buy the kids a Pez dispenser when I think they've been wonderful... maybe as a grandmotherly type I will splurge on the big ticket items like an air mattress. Yep, C went home nearly hugging a box emblazoned with Hannah Montana and immediately went up the stairs, eager to set up the air mattress for use in her bedroom that night.
Gee, aren't air mattresses boring? (I imagine this part being said by a little creepy version of C sitting on her left shoulder) Wouldn't they be more fun when filled with... say... Water?
Ummm... I'm not so sure this is a great idea (says the more sweet looking mini C on the right shoulder)
but nobody heard that word of warning, because C and her evil influence were already off to the bathroom finding a pitcher to fill the mattress with water.
It would be hard to judge the extent of the damage in gallons... let's just say that the second floor bedroom had a swampy feel to it once the air mattress proved that it hadn't been manufactured for use as a waterbed OR a trampoline.
some serious clean up was needed, and FAST - it was starting to resemble this:
after a good laugh, and a congratulations to my sister for allowing her daughter to continue living in their home, I hung up - and thanked each and every one of my kids for not listening to their evil mini left shoulder sitting selves... at least not too often.
I know - if they were naughtier I'd have more blog fodder... but I might be too tired to blog!
images from the web (that IS the 1970 swamp thing) and permission was given to use my niece's horror story for your amusement.
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