Saturdays tend to be lazy around here. They are for sleeping in & taking your time to get moving, which is a nice luxury after the business of the rest of our week. It's not abnormal for the boys to bring toys into our room & play until I complain that someone has taken all of my share of the quilt & that I'm freezing. Or someone else complains they are extremely hungry & on the verge of dying from starvation. Last weekend there was some kind of major pillow & puffle war. You know what a puffle is right?
A few Saturdays back I was the one who complained that not only did everyone take my share of the quilt, but I was also starving & thus I stated I was getting up. It is not insane to state you are getting up when it means climbing over three other bodies, an unknown amount of toys, & generally a dog as well if not a guinea pig at times. I stepped into our closet long enough to grab a wonderfully thick, & yes okay purple, robe that, yes you've caught me, is adorned with snowmen. When I came out the room was empty. I'm telling you my closet is not that big.
When I left the bedroom I found the boys whispering together & holding the last of the bananas. I declared it completely unfair that they had the last of the bananas because I hadn't even gotten one yet. Bananas have risen in price here again & I just refuse to pay $4 per kilo for them at times, you know until someone laments, generally Mr S, that it's been ages since I've purchased even one single banana & would it be possible to nip out & pick some up today without being too much of a bother from our schedule? Which is exactly why we had bananas in the house! I'd purchased enough for each of us to have 2, but there were suddenly only three left & I'd had none.
I told them I was going to get something to go with my banana & when I came back I expected to be let in on my fair share of bananas. Only, when I returned I found, hanging from the birthday banner, a sign which read: "Mom Cecher 3000". Which means: "Mom Catcher 3000". Dangling below the sign attached to string were the last 3 bananas! Now, you might think I was desperate enough to have snatched them, hidden them in the depths of my bathrobe & run for the hills, but I have something on my side. My brother.
I don't think one grows up with a brother & doesn't learn a few things. Like, for instance, his sudden silence after much noise means that he's most likely set up some form of a trap hoping, beyond hope, to catch you in it. If string is dangling from a sign, or a doorway as our mother can attest, it's another sure sign that things aren't quite right.
Not to mention the fact that my boys have begged to hear the story, countless times of their uncle setting up a trap so that when Gram walked into his bedroom to check the progress of room cleaning a rolled up blanket fell upon her head. The only thing funnier to them was that it happened twice.. to both grandmothers.
There was no way I was touching those bananas. Mr S, on the other hand, walked out read the sign & said, "Oh good I'm in the clear then!" & proceeded to take the bananas & walk off with them. How does this happen?! I'm still not quite sure because I'm too busy lamenting the fact that my brother led me astray & my children ganged up with my husband & I didn't get my fair share of bananas.