The Chronicles of P, vol 2

So, Ol's older gal friend, P, returned today, for 80 minutes of play/mother's helper biz. I was certain the timing was perfect because Jack, too, was having a friend over and four is always better than three. Am I right parents out there who've hosted playdates of three and want to die almost immediately? In any case, each kid and a bestie, and I was feeling confident that we would be all smooth sailing and certainly no cussing. Things went swimmingly until a game of Pictionary commenced. Because Oliver cannot read in any significant way -sure he can pick 'butt' out of a foreign Where's Waldo picture and is a master with 'Jack'- I was roped in as the assistive clue card translation service. Ol started off very earnestly; you can see that this is a fair likeness of a hammerhead shark. I'm not saying we guessed that first, but we did come to it.

Now, his picture of 'eggs' was positively incomprehensible. P guessed 'pizza.' I came up empty-handed. And then, he went rogue. He drew a butt, obviously, and then a penis, and I nearly thought I'd die. P's eyes popped out of her head, and as I write this I'm realizing that because of the lunatic mayhem that was our home when everyone fetched their children, I did not give P's mother the newest warning about just what her child was exposed to by her ward.

I am going to be honest and tell y'all that while much of this is most definitely laughable, the past couple weeks have most definitely been trying. More minute-to-minute hanging-by-toes than I'd like. Slightly intense, if you get my completely restrained drift.

T is playing Wii Sports Resort in the basement by himself right now. I can hear him doing the sword play-fruit cutting game with the mysterious 'Asian' music weaving through the experience. It's cracking me up.

How pretty is this avocado?