Uggghhh!!!  I love to have my double stuffed oreo’s and milk!  Nothing is worse than pouring your milk, and getting yourself all psyched then sit down to find ONE fricking cookie.  (I have since resorted to hiding my own personal stash of oreo’s)

So we began trying to figure out what broke.

Hmmm….Elmo still has his head and all of his extremities.  Piggy was all intact.  Bottle full, no leaks.  Blankie’s all good, no snags or holes.  Might want to change the remote control batteries soon, but that’s not it.  Pillow was fine, no feathers poking through.  We did a body search.  There were no cuts, bruises or anything.  My dh and I were frantically trying to figure out what she was still wailing about.  Everything appearred normal. 

It’s now an hour later.  We have taken turns walking with her, while the other searches.  We recruited my son.  There was no consoling her.  Aside from the one burner on the stove being difficult to light and the toilet running if you don’t give the handle an extra flip, we can not find anything broke.

Finally, I look at her binky that is clutched in her tiny little hand…  And there it is. A little hole.   The binky broke.  As I was trying to get her binky out of her fist I asked her, “Oh, honey, did your binky break?”  Her response was deafening. 

Her binky is attached to a flower binky holder.  I think it is meant to attach it to the child so it does not get lost.  Hmmph…from the time she was old enough to lift her little arm and stuff her binky in her mouth, binky on a string took on a whole new purpose.  A small weapon.  One she needed to fend off our (well behaved give marley a run for his money) black lab from stealing her cookies.  (BTW if your looking to do a sequel on Marley and me and need another dog to write about…give me a buzz!!  The stories….Oh…the stories)  Okay, where was I?  Ah, yes…the binky on a string.  So my dh cuddled and walked with her as I put a new binky on the flower string.  Stupid me.  I thought all would be good.  Despite the new binky being exactly the same color, shape and size, it was not THE binky.  We continued to cuddle and sympathize with her terrible loss until nearly 1 am when she finally cried herself to sleep.  All the while she chanted through tears, “it boke, momma…it boke.” 

It really boke my heart.

     If you thought this one was a given.  You would be incorrect.  This is something we have told our toddler so frequently that we have relocated their food and water to another level of the house.

I think if my son could record his farts he would use them for a ring tone on his cell phone.  Just because farts are funny.  Now.  At one time farts were way not funny.  They were a reason to cry and hide in embarrassment.  But that is a whole other story.  A really funny story but another time. 

Dinner at our house can be a little chaotic at times trying to arrange a meal that everyone can sit down and eat and the same time.  So after calling Nicki and David to the table we sat down to enjoy nicenormal dinner conversation.  There was a lot of, “I did this….”, and blah, blah, blah….Nicki’s cell phone vibrated (for a text message) across the table interrupting our meal by sounding like a long fart.  She sighs with relief and says, “Ahhhh, excuse me.  I feel so much better now.”

Now David who had to have been holding one in all day, saving it for such an opportunity, lifted up one of his scrawny ass butt cheeks and let one rip that seemed to go on forever.  (How that child did not implode from that much gas build up.  I will never know.)  PPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF, and says, “No, excccccusssse me,” and continues eating completely unfazed as the rest of us nearly wet our pants laughing.

Just another normal dinner at our house.  I guess I shouldn’t expect any invitations to the White House any time soon.

Just a side note:  our children are very well behaved in public.

Let me tell you when my toddler grabs hold of something.  She DOES NOT let go easily.  It took 2 of us to pry his penis from her death grip.