I spent some time yesterday straightening up the house. When I say some time, I may in actuality be talking about hours on top of hours. Now, the normal person would think that as a result I have a spic and span house, shiny and sparkly from top to bottom. Unless you have ever dealt with small children. If you have dealt with small children you are now thinking to yourself, Oh, it must be the plastic monster that kept her so occupied.
Yes, the plastic monster has invaded my house, threw up everything he ate (which naturally, is plastic) and then spit it out in my living room, my kitchen, my bedroom, my office, my basement, my unmentionables drawer. Yes. My underwear drawer. He’s a pervasive bugger that guy.
It doesn’t help that this monster is invited, WELCOMED really, into my house by my three almost to be four year old daughter. Oh, she loves him so. We’ve battled him since she was born and will continue to do so.
My confrontation yesterday culminated in one Target sized bag that I managed to sneak out of the house like a smuggler sneaking vegetables into Candy Land.
Until we meet again my adversary, I will continue to pluck princesses out of my underwear drawer. Which of course are there because it’s where they can “sit in the boats.”