My Two Favorite B's

Okay, shocking as it may sound, I have only had to go upstairs to re tuck a certain someone once so far. It's kinda freaking me out.

First of all, granddaddy came over. This is always a special treat for the boys. Not just because they love him, but because he brings toys. Yes, loud ones. Thanks Granddaddy! However, I did manage to wear them out and then get them bathed before he came. It was a monumental task, but I achieved it. All we had left was the opening of the 'loudest toys in the world' and then a quick story and bedtime. (I had even pre-drugged them with Tylenol Cold to ensure we didn't suffer through another night of coughing...)

It was no use. The toys were the cars that you shake and they yell "Hey, show some respect Holmes!" and then peel off. Great... I've already hidden two of those that the Easter bunny brought... None the less, they graciously accepted his gift and Beaux didn't bother to tell him that he already had one of those. (Could he have possibly forgotten the long-lost Easter gift?!)

By the time the newness had worn off and they played 15 minutes of "Slinky Britches," which from what I can gather is a game where they run past Granddaddy and he tries to catch them, the reading of books commenced. This is almost always a guaranteed half hour event. But we survived that one too. All was looking in my favor. They even wanted him to tuck them in, so I was getting away without the traditional "lets stand in the driveway and wave to Granddaddy while he flashes his headlights at us" game. I was elated. I could taste that honey brown ale already!

But, alas, just as I sat down here to type, I heard the 'thump', which was quickly followed by the shuffle of bare feet on freize carpet. As anticipated, the sniffling of a stuffy head sleeping at the top of the staircase ensued. I had a feeling it was all going too well.

Just moments after resolving myself that I would just ignore it and put him back in bed when I was ready to go, I hear "momma"... Ug. Here we go. "Yes, son." "Mommma, I left my baby glubs down stairs and I really, really, really need him." "Okay, son. Come down and get him." "Momma, I got boogers." "So go blow your nose." "But momma, nuttin will come out!" "Um, okay. I'm not sure what else I can do for you." "Momma, I need you to pick them for me." (Good grief. Is it not enough that I carried the child for 9 months, nursed him for 12 months and allowed him to survive for 4 1/2 years?!) "Alright. Go upstairs."

Ah, the joys of motherhood. Boogers and warm Beer...mmmm.