11/12/2006

They Are Taking Over

Tonight I made donuts for dinner. I know. Donuts. I feel so guilty eating them because I used almost a half a bottle of canola oil to make a batch and only a thin amount was left on the bottom of the fryer when I was done. Talk about soaking up the fat. Imagine if you ate some of those things regularly. Sheesh.

If any of you have any idea where the bottle of allergy pills are that I just bought please inform me. I have been searching for them for two days. I hate losing things. I about had a heart attack when I went to the cupboard to get them and they were not there. The day before I had my daughter (who is five) dole them out to all who needed one for the day and she swears she put them on the counter. I had a hard time believing her. This is coming from the girl who took my keys one day and hid them under a tree. "If you know where my keys are," I said desperately, "please tell me." I was so persistent. It got me places though because, sure enough, she stepped outside for a bit, walked back upstairs where I was standing, and handed me the set of keys with some grass and roots stuck to them. I could not scream at her because a real estate agent and her pack of nerdy prospects were in the house and I had to maintain my composure. I had to get out of there too. But this is an old post.

So, you can understand how I do not trust my girl. She is so wonderful, so sweet, so loving, but she is sort of sneaky. Girls are sneaky. I have pretty much torn the house apart though. When the phone rings I practically think it is someone who will say on the other line: "Your allergy pills are in the hole in the tree in the front yard."

No, I have not looked in the hole in the tree. I have looked (believe it or not) in the shed, in a bucket outside, in the red wagon, under leaves, on the porch, on top of the frige, in every drawer and crack known to man, in every cabinet, down the sink (I am nuts), in the trash (even the outside trash), in every room except the boys' room, every bathroom, under anything that can possibly have room for a bottle to roll under (including the treadmill) behind the piano, behind the stove---everywhere.

I saw a kid show today called Kipper the Dog and he was looking for something important to him. Dear Sir said, "Hey! That's like the allergy pills!"

I have even looked in vases and various other little holes. Girls are sneaky, I tell you. Sneaky.

5 comments:

Distant Timbers Echo said...

Lemmie tell you something R! If there's anything you hold dear, anything you don't want the kiddies to get a hold of and hide, you have to have to have to keep it in a locked safe in your bedroom!

Nothing is sacred once children enter the picture.

Anonymous said...

*BWAHAHA*... Sorry...

R said...

I felt like a child getting eggs from a chicken coup just now. I found the pills!!!!

Eraser Eater put them on the way top (by the ceiling) of the cupboard in the kitchen. He said that when the daughter was handing out the pills she kept spilling them so he put them on the highest possible place so she could not get them again. When I asked him why he did not tell me before to save myself the search squad action, he said, "I forgot."

It took me three days, but I found them! Eureka!

I have to now say sorry to the girl because I have caused her much grief during the past days by saying, "Where did you put those pills? In the frige? Under a pile of leaves?" and she would say, "Huh? Why would I do that?!" and get offended and sometimes cry. I know, I am a terrible mother. I just hate losing things. I lose my mind.

Funky-Redhead said...

I've done the same...blamed the girl...poor thing...And then I felt soooo bad!

R said...

Red head---yes, it is the pits.

Susie---Thanks for the lesson. My life is chaotic and silly like that. In many ways I usually do not want the easy way out of huddling everyone together to figure out where the pills or whatnot could be...I love looking for things. It is some sort of silly challenge I enjoy.

"I forgot" is a terrible excuse, yes. You are totally right. I guess I could have questioned them more, but then, you know, I like looking for things. I should read more mysteries.

There is no place where things can not be tampered with! Except the shed and they always find my keys. Did I tell you that I am a flight head most of the time? I am so one track minded that I can not focus on more than one thing. A fire could be burning my kitchen down and I could be playing guitar and have to finish a song before I could tend to it. I am pretty bad. It drives my husband nuts. I can't talk, I can't think of other things, I am totally focused "like a laser" on whatever is before me. I am horrible at multi tasking and I actually dare to try. I fail all the time.

Good ending tip. I always need to remember that mamba jamba.