12/29/13, Batteries Not Included

“Hey, Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Didntcha know that my tummy ran out of batteries.”

“It did?”

“Yeah. It ran out of batteries and now my body TV turned off.”

“Well let’s recharge your batteries!  Come get some breakfast.”

“No. The only way to get more batteries is to go outside and play in my pajamas.”  He looks down at his four-year-old belly mournfully.

“Um…  Let’s try breakfast first.”

Image courtesy of http://www.advertolog.com/interstate-batteries/print-outdoor/monkey-10223005/

Image courtesy of http://www.advertolog.com/interstate-batteries/print-outdoor/monkey-10223005/

12/10/13, The Opening of the Winter Games

Mommy monkey hangs a plastic basketball hoop on the door to the foyer.  The once  stately entrance to their center hall colonial is now officially a gymnasium.  Apparently she’s willing to do anything to keep the monkeys from tearing apart the couches again.  What could possible go wrong?

“Okay, guys!  Go ahead and practice, but if anyone hits the chandelier its -”  A basketball flies by mom’s head and bounces off the ceiling.

Sigh. “No seriously.  You have to be care-”

“A-HA!”  A seven-year-old pelts his little brother in the back with the little orange ball.

“-ful!  Dude!  This is not dodge ball. You’re supposed to -”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!” the four-year-old tackles him into the couch.

“GUYS!  Basketball is not a contact sport!”

The deaf monkeys are now just chasing each other around the living room.  Again.

With an exasperated growl, mommy snatches a basketball away from one of them as they zip by and takes a shot. “Ha! Two points.”

They freeze.

“Hey, no fair!” the little one grabs his ball back.

“Hey, Mom. Want to see me make a shot?”

“Sure, honey.”  Is it too early for wine?

Image courtesy of www.ign.com

Image courtesy of www.ign.com

 

11/11/13, To the Store!

“Okay, boys!  We’re on a mission.” Daddy monkey commands his troops.

The  monkeys continue to chase each other around the couch without even glancing at their fearless leader.

“We’re going to the store . . .  You need to choose your army names!”

The little one let’s go of a leg and sits up on his brother’s head.  “What’s a army name?”

“You know like Sergeant Spud or Captain Crunch.”

The older monkey shoves his brother off his back.  “What’s better, Sergeant or Captain?”

“First there’s Private then Corporal then Sergeant then Lieutenant, Captain, Major, Colonel, and then General.”

The six-year-old slashes at the air with an imaginary sword. “I’m going to be Sergeant Razor Power!”

Not to be outdone, the four-year-old screws up his face then declares with a finger in the air, “I am Lieutenant Braxton Fraleigh Garfield!”

General Daddy nods his approval. “To the store!”

Image courtesy of www.moddb.com

Image courtesy of www.moddb.com

10/31/13, Scaaaaaaaaaaaaaary!

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s ‘grounded’ mean?”

“When you’re grounded you have to stay in your room and you can’t play with friends.  It means you’ve done something really bad.”

His face lights up.  “Like if you flood the basement or crash the car?”

The six-year-old’s immediate grasp of “really bad” is a little unnerving.  “Um. . . yeah.  Those would be pretty bad.  You’d definitely get grounded if you did those things.”

He smiles diabolically.  “Or if you blow up the whole house with TNT?”

“TNT?” Mom recoils. “No honey.  If you did that you’d probably go to jail.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “That’d be pretty bad.”

Then he saunters out the kitchen muttering to himself.

Happy Halloween!!

Image courtesy of banksydecals.com

Image courtesy of banksydecals.com

10/18/13: Call the fire department!

“One more math question.”

“Go to bed.”

“Just one! Come on, Mom!”

“Okay, if the Memory Game has 72 cards and three people play the game and they all tie, how many cards do each of them get?”

“They can’t tie.”

“Sure they can.  How do you split 72 cards between three people?”  That should shut him up.

“That’s 72 divided by 3.  To my Thinking Lab!” He dives under the covers.  He whispers to himself for a few odd seconds before he gives up.  Suddenly the blanket begins convulsing violently.

“You okay?”

He pops up.  “My laboratory’s on fire!”  He disappears under the blanket and flops around some more. “See? It’s burning down!”

Image courtesy of http://drawception.com/viewgame/tT9EZtHOxT/fire-coming-out-of-a-monkeys-head/

Image courtesy of http://drawception.com/viewgame/tT9EZtHOxT/fire-coming-out-of-a-monkeys-head/

10/17/13, And the answer is…

“Good night, sweetie!”

“Mom. Mom. MOM!”

“What?”

“Can we play a math game?”

“Honey, it’s time for bed.”

“PLEASE?”

Eye roll.  The nerd-force runs strong in this one.  “Okay.  If there are 5 kids and 20 Twizzlers, how many Twizzlers should each kid get?”

“Just a second!” The monkey dives under the covers.

“Where are you going?”

He pops up. “Into my brain laboratory to think.”

He throws the covers back over his head. Muffled grunts and twitching fingers flutter the blanket for the next 60 seconds.  Brain laboratory?

I’m about to give away the answer when the monkey pops back up and shouts, “FOUR!”

Brain laboratory indeed!

Image courtesy of www.flickr.com

Image courtesy of www.flickr.com

9/30/13, My refrigerator is running!

*Ring*  *Ring*  *Ring*

“Hello?”

“Uh, yes.  Hello.  This is a very important client and my computer needs fixing.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.  I am a business man downtown and I need my computer fixed.  I’m a very important client.”

“Right away, sir!”

*Click*

A few minutes later, a six-year-old casually saunters into the room.  “Hey, did I hear the phone ringing?”

“Yes.  I have to go downtown right away!”  Dadddy leaps to his feet.  He pauses at the door and eyes his progeny.  “Wait.  Was that you?”

The busted monkey collapses in a shrieking laugh attack.

“You tricked me!”

And there was much tickling.  Several minutes later . . .

*Ring*  *Ring*  *Ring*

Image courtesy of theunsecretshopper.com

Image courtesy of theunsecretshopper.com

9/17/13, Brothers

“We are terrible dinosaurs and we are best friends!” a growling six-year-old declares.

“ROAR!”  His brother agrees.

“But sometimes I get grumpy and try to eat you.”

Image courtesy of www.smosh.com

Image courtesy of www.smosh.com

9/16/13: The knights who say . . . SLEEP!

“Hey, guys!  It’s time for bed.”

There is a giant blanket lump in the middle of my bed.  The lump is giggling.

“Shhhh!”  the lump hisses.

“There’s nobody here!” a voice squeaks from under cover.

“Um.  Yeah!”  a six-year-old voice calls from a supposed distance. “We’re in our room!”

“Yeah, we’re not here.”

“We put on our pajamas, and we’re each in our own rooms.”

“Oh, really?”  I say to the lump that looks remarkably like two balled up little boys.

“Uh-huh.”  One end of the lump nods.

“That’s nice.” I pat the bumpy covers. “Did you remember to brush your teeth?”

Monkey under-pink-blanket

8/26/13, Things that make you go Hmmm…

“Why are you hanging your monkey by his neck?”

The six-year-old is forcing his favorite stuffed marmoset’s head through a tiny coat hanger.  Its gangly limbs dangle helplessly from the noose  as the hangman hooks it onto his closet doorknob.  Is it time to call a child psychologist?

“He’s guarding the door,” he says simply. Duh, Mom. “You have to answer his riddles if you want to enter.”

“Oh. Okay?”

Image courtesy of flickrhivemind.net

Image courtesy of flickrhivemind.net