I am writing about this because my mother-in-law recently went out of town and will be gone, not for one Wednesday, not for two Wednesdays, but for three whole Wednesdays in a row. This is bad. I mean real bad. OK, it's not that bad. But it's not good, either.
This past Wednesday was the first of the three consecutive Wednesdays that the mother-in-law will be gone. Overall, the day went pretty well, except for two instances. Both of these instances revolved around the Baby. You would think that since she is the least mobile of the three hooligans, she would be the least likely to get into trouble. That, at least this past Wednesday, was not the case.
It all happened while we were playing downstairs. The Boy and I were really getting into our, I mean his, trains. The Girl was playing with her dollhouse, and the Baby was crawling from one end of the basement to the other, checking out everything we were all doing. She had settled on playing with the plastic kitchen we have, having fun opening up all the doors and drawers and playing with the toy foods. That's when the first moment of badness happened. I had my back turned to her, but I heard the commotion; she had pulled the entire kitchen over on herself and was laying helplessly underneath it. It looked bad. Thankfully she was only frightened, and didn't have a scratch on her. In reality, the worst part was having to pick up all the toy food that was strewn about the place. Especially since the Baby was too "shaken up" to help me. Babies...(shaking my head.)
|This is a recreation of the first crime scene, with Scout playing the role of the Baby.|
|This is a recreation of the second crime scene. Again, Scout is playing the role of the Baby.|