He Waltzed Right Into It

Mr. Schmitty and I got into bed the other night, exhausted. That's what happens when you stay up too late; one on the computer playing Bejeweled and the other playing war games on Xbox.

Anyway, I rolled over, in the dark, to give him a kiss goodnight. I was met with the most puckered up lips I have ever encountered.

"That was like kissing an asshole!" I snorted hysterically.

"You've kissed an asshole alot?" He chuckled back.

"Everyday of my life, dear, everyday.of.my.life."

******************************************************

Mr. Schmitty took the chocolate ice cream from the freezer. I then watched him take a large serving spoon from the kitchen drawer. He popped the lid off of the container and scooped out a large mound of ice cream. He proceeded to eat it right off the spoon as he put the container back into the freezer.

"That's all you are going to have?" I asked the ice cream fiend.

"Yup!" He mumbled through his apparent blissful moment.

"I see you keep doing that lately. I can't believe that's all you are having," I said as I watched him enjoy the last of the melting goodness.

"I'm just having enough to curb my craving," he said as he placed the spoon in the sink.

He turned toward me and I lifted my shirt. I flashed my freshly unleashed girls at him.

"There! That should have curbed any cravings you might have!" I exclaimed as I turned and walked away.

Say 'Ello to My Little Friend

R. can NOT keep a secret. This comes in quite handy for me, as I can't always be the fly on the wall, watching all that my children do.

I can always count on my daughter to spill the beans because she likes to talk and talk and talk.

Our best friends have a set of twins that are six years old. The boy, L. and my T. are the closest of buddies. And the girl, S., and R. are BFFL.

Recently, out of the blue, R. said to me, "Mom, did you know that L.'s best friend is his weinis?"

"WHAT?!"

"Yes, his best friend is his weinis! S. told me so!"

Oh boy.

"What made S. say that?"

"Yesterday she asked L. to show me and T. his best friend......."

OH.GOD.HERE.IT.COMES

"....and he pulled down his zipper and showed us his weinis!"

She then giggled.

Fantastic.

So, I had the privacy talk with T. and R. again. I tried not to make a big deal out of it because I know kids are just being kids. They thought it was funny. They were kind of right.

But now I had to tell my best friend.

"E. now don't get upset, I don't want you to freak out......" I then told her the story.

Her mouth dropped open and she fell back onto her bed. She was shell shocked.

I laughed and told her it was perfectly normal. She has three daughters and only one son. I've been telling her for years that boys and girls are entirely different. She never believed me.

I think she does now.

That's Right Baby, Never Get Outnumbered

Mr. Schmitty took R. for a bicycle ride tonight. My munchkin, though 5 1/2 years old, can still fit into the child seat on the back of his mountain bike.

As they rode through the neighborhood on this gorgeous evening, R. conversed with her daddy. Actually, she flapped her gums the entire time. I truly do not know how that girl breathes, as there are hardly seconds that she is quiet.

"Daddy, when I grow up and have kids, I will give them the same names as the kids in our family." She informed him. "I will name them W. and T."

"Don't you want any girls?" He asked.

"Nope, just two boys."

"Only two kids?" He questioned, "Don't you want three like our family?"

"Nah, three kids is too much work."

Man, did she ever hit that one on the head!

Random Conversations

Saturday night the Schmitty clan was all sitting around the dining room table coloring. The kids were all clamoring, "Do you like my picture?" "Mommy, how does mine look?" "No look here, how about my coloring?"

"Good!" "Great!" "Fantastic!"

Suddenly, Crack! W. broke a crayon.

"Oooops!"

I reply, "OOOOHHHHHH, 50 lashes for you!"

"That's good!" he says.

Puzzled, I asked, "Why is that good?"

"25 for one eye and 25 for the other!"

Ugh, he's doomed to be his father.

**********************************************************

R. is meticulously coloring her picture. She looks up at me and says, "Mommy, do you like how I'm coloring the bunny's bush?"

Mr. Schmitty glances at me and I burst out laughing. I know, I know, sick, perverted minds think alike.

T. asked, "What's so funny about the bunny's bush?"

"Yea, why are you laughing about the bunny's bush?" W. chimes in.

I just roared until I couldn't breathe.

A Day In The Life

Today is kindergarten registration for T. He seems a little apprehensive, but that's my T. He's the most shy of the Schmitty children, though he probably is the most "popular". People just take to him. Kids, I've noticed, seem to flock to him. He's just got that natural attraction. You know, there's just something about him.

I reminded him yesterday that we would be going to the school to sign him up. I informed him and his sister that we'd have some errands to run. The registration to start, then to the school's administration building, which is across town. There I will be turning in R.'s registration papers for Preschool.

Our elementary school has a Preschool for children that have special needs, ranging from severe to minor, such as speech therapy. The Preschool also accepts applications for other resident children with no special needs. There is a limited space for other resident children and they are chosen by lottery. I'm hoping R. gets chosen. It will be great to have her and her brother begin the same school together. It will be a lot easier for me. The kids will be in two schools, not three. It will also elevate some of the financial burden as this is free compared to the Montessori Academy she will attend if not picked.

After we drop off her papers, we will need to go grocery shopping. R. said we needed milk. Of course we do. We go through at least two gallons every three days, we ALWAYS need milk. I told R. that we should buy our own cow instead. She then told me that cow's "pee" milk. Oh YUM!

I told them if we had time, we would then go to borough hall to get Ruby's dog license. T.'s eyes bugged out and he exclaimed, "Then she'll be able to drive a car?!"

Ahhhh....the stories he'll tell in kindergarten!

Never mind the ham

This morning I was preparing for tomorrow's Easter feast. I was rolling meatballs, making tomato sauce, cooking sausage, and defrosting the ham. I was also making mental checklists of what I need to do to pull off dinner for 15.

Miss R. climbed up to see what I was doing. She loves to watch me cook and always wants to help out. We started chit-chatting and doing the whole mom/daughter bond thing.

Me: "When you grow up, will you cook and invite me over for Easter dinner?"

R.: "Yes!"

Me: "What will you make me to eat?"

R.: "Stew!"

Me: "Yum! What kind of stew?"

R.: "Rabbit Stew!"

I hope the Easter Bunny rethinks his route and takes a detour that year!

Oh I Forgive, I Just Never Forget

Remember last summer when Mr. Schmitty and I had a sort of tit-for-tat war going on? It all started with this post.

My throat still hasn't quite recovered from the Janet Leigh Psychoish scream I let out when Mr. Schmitty tried to liposuction my butt with the vacuum. That's when things got ugly. It was on!

Since then I periodically lay little traps for him, just to remind him that I am a vengeful, vindictive woman who will not rest until I bring him to his knees.

One of my evil plans is to have the guys he works with brought in to help me. Unbeknown to them, they will simply be my pawns in this ongoing game of ours.

Every so often when Mr. Schmitty leaves his cell phone lying around, completely unguarded, I change his ringtone. Big deal, you say? My dear hubby works in a field that has some pretty masculine, man's man type of guys employed. Well, imagine his displeasure to have his cell phone ring, just as a meeting is starting, and all you hear in the room is, "If you like Pina Coladas, getting caught in the rain....!" or maybe, "I'm lookin' for some Hot Stuff baby this evenin', I need Hot Stuff baby tonight!"

Muuuuuuaaaahhhhhaaaaaa!

I can just imagine the heads spinning around, the eyes glaring at him, eye brows arched. I feel his blood pressure rising, his heart pounding, and the sweat dripping down his face. The comments and jokes begin to fly. He knows it's me immediately and he's plotting his revenge.

It just hasn't happened yet. He has been so lucky and has caught it every single time when he has been alone. I'll just keep trying....I won't rest until my mission is complete.

The other day, much to my amusement, I overheard this conversation:

T.: "R., do you like peanuts or coladas?"

R.: "Peanuts, 'cause I don't know what a colada is."

T.: "Do you like the rain or the sun?"

R.: "Sun."

T.: "What's yoga?"

R.: "I don't know."

T.: "Do you have half a brain or a whole brain?"

R.: "Half."

The laughter from that answer was priceless. Thank goodness they didn't know the next line (Do you like making love at midnight?).

This just goes to show you, they know everything that goes on, even if you think they aren't listening!

Why Can't They Stay Little Forever?

Last week a few of the ladies in the neighborhood met for dinner. We usually get together at least 2 or 3 times a year and there are normally anywhere from 4 to 10 of us.

It's really a great night out. Most of us don't get out much and it's nice to get an occasional breather from the kids and the hubbys, though most of the conversations seem to revolve around them anyway.

Five of us met at Houlihan's, a new restaurant that opened up locally. After we all ordered our much earned glasses of wine or beer we began talking about our kids. Three of us have children in the 4th grade and we were talking about our concerns with them moving on to the middle school next year.

Our middle school goes from 5th to 8th grade. It's scary to imagine my 10 year old having to interact with a 13 or 14 year old. In school the kids are, of course, separated. However, they do have to "play nice" on the school buses.

I'm not really happy with cutting the chord and letting W. take the bus. I know I have to. I know I need to let go. But God help me if I find out some punk was messing with my boy on the bus. I'm hoping that all of the kids in the neighborhood, and there are a lot of them going to 5th grade next year, stick together.

The subject at dinner then turned to sex education. One of the mom's at the table said that the school nurse would be "bursting the bubble" next year. Huh? The kids are apparently informed that there really isn't a stork, that babies really don't come from watermelon seeds, and that you don't get a baby in your tummy from kissing.

W. will be traumatized! I swear the child has never, EVER even questioned Mr. Schmitty or I on the facts of life. He doesn't seem to even think about it. He still believes in Santa, the Toothy Fairy, and God darned Easter Bunny for crying out loud!

But apparently learning in 5th grade may be a necessity. From what I understand, there is a 6th grade girl who has done got herself knocked up. I shouldn't make fun, but if I don't, I may cry.

And get this. This one will just blow your mind, no pun intended. There is a little game the middle school kids like to play. Never mind Spin The Bottle. Forget about 7 Minutes In Heaven. No, these kids are having Rainbow Parties!

I sat completely clueless. "What is a Rainbow Party?" I asked, feeling quite stupid.

My friend answered, "The girls wear different colored lipstick and take turns performing oral sex on the boys -- leaving a rainbow of colors on the the boys' private parts."

Yup, so glad I asked. I think part of my Baked Potato Soup leaked out of my mouth on to the table.

I'm homeschooling, I swear.

A Needle In A Haystack

A while back I told you that my MIL needed to sell her house because, well, basically it's falling down around her. She has decades of junk just plain crap memories piled heaped filled up in that house - all the way to the brim. I think it's actually holding the house together. Anyway, Mr. Schmitty and his siblings have been working really hard at clearing everything out so they can get the house on the market.

My cousin owns a company that provides dumpsters and has given us one to keep at her house for as long as we need it. It allows everyone to work on the task at hand, without worrying that the dumpster is costing money. Mostly everything that needed to go, has been tossed in that dumpster. And YES, the house is still standing. Hallelujah!

My cousin came by on Sunday and picked up the loaded down dumpster. Good-bye was the hide-a-bed couch my MIL swore she was going to reupholster since Mr. Schmitty was a tot. Gone were the million and one paint cans my FIL held on to, in every color of the rainbow. The lot was being sent to it's final resting place at the local dump.

The telephone rang about an hour later. Mr. Schmitty answered the call. It was my MIL. She was in a panic.

"I need you to pick me up."

"What do you need?" Mr. Schmitty asked, "What's wrong?"

"I need you to take me to the dump, I think my glasses got mixed up in everything and went into the dumpster!" she replied.

"That dumpster has been unloaded already. You'd never be able to find them in there anyway!"

"Well, he only left with it an hour ago, even if it was dumped, they'd probably be right on top!"

God Bless her. Panic does get the best of that woman.

R. - the educator

T., R., and I were coloring a few days ago. It is our favorite thing to do together. I could color for hours. And I sometimes do. It relaxes me. On stressful days, I am usually pulling out the coloring books and crayons or colored pencils. I may keep coloring long after the kids have moved on to tv or puzzles.

The best conversations usually crop up while we are coloring. We all seem to just start talking. The banter flows. I learn a lot from my kids during our creative sessions. They loosen up and before you know it they are filling me in on all the happenings of their lives. It's so much better than when I ask, "What did you do today?" That question is usually answered with a, "Nothing."

Yes, I believe bringing out the artist in them gets the gears in their minds turning. Not only do they talk to me, they make me laugh too. It's hilarious to find out what goes on in their little heads.

"Mommy, can I have the brown crayon?" asked R.

"Sure, sweetie!" I reply as I look over at the picture she is working on. It is a Farmer and a horse.

"Are you going to color the horse brown?" I asked.

"No."

"Well, that's okay, use your imagination and color it any way you'd like." I always tell the kids they should color this way. I encourage them to be creative. If you want to color a dog purple with green hair, go for it!

"I am coloring brown on the Farmer. Because you know ALL Farmers are Brown!" she announces.

"Oh, yea, right. I knew that!"

The Things They Say

How do kids come up with this stuff?!

T.: "I have 6 pussies!"

Mr. Schmitty and I spin our heads around and look at each other with shock on our faces.

Me: "WHAT?!"

T.: "I have 6 Puss 'N Boots Cheez-its left!"

Whew!

**********************************************************************

R.: "Where did my penis go?"

Me: "You don't have one!" Thinking to myself that I've had this conversation a million times with her.

R.: "I know, it must have fallen off and flushed down the toilet when I was doing pee pee."

Oh Boy!

**********************************************************************

W.: "Why do we call a W a W?"

Me: "I don't know, what else would it be called?"

W.: "It should be called a double V!"

A 9 year old's mind at work!

His Mind Is Always In The Gutter

This morning I was looking at the kids and was noticing the different facial features they each had. I was saying to Mr. Schmitty that W. has his profile and T. definitely gets his eyebrows and ears from his grandpa. I continued to say that R. is such a mixture of people from both families.

A few conversations later, I asked Mr. Schmitty if he had noticed R.'s new bad habit. She is still hooked on her Binky, but I will only give it to her at night as she is getting into bed. She isn't allowed to have it during the day, no matter how much she whines. Now when she is tired, she has taken to licking the palm of her hand.

"I think she has an oral fixation."

"Well, she certainly didn't get that from you."

Bastard.

Dating Again

Yes, that's right, I'm dating again. I told R. this morning that I was going out with my boyfriend today. I told her she needed to be a good girl for grandma while I'm gone.

"Where are you going mama?"

"I'm going out on a date with my boyfriend."

"Where?"

"We are going to see the new Harry Potter movie."

"Are you going to have popcorn?"

"Of course."

She stops and thinks for a minute.

"Your boyfriend is going on a date too?"

"Yes with me. Should I kiss him?"

"Yes! On the lips!"

I giggle.

"Where's daddy? Is he working?" she asks very matter-of-factly.

"Silly girl, he's my boyfriend!"

I know, I know, one of these days I'll pay when the kids make me go on Jerry Springer.

The Mind Of A 3 Year Old

Yesterday R. was all wrapped up in her Princess towel after taking a dip in her kiddie pool. She was sitting next to me and talking my ear off, as is usual for my little chatterbox. She was telling me a story.

"W. hides his boogers."

"Oh he does, does he."

"Yes, he has a collection."

"Where does he keep this collection?"

"In a jar."

"That's pretty gross, isn't it?"

"Yea, and he puts the jar in the oven and cooks them!"

She is now giggling.

"MY OVEN? EWWW!"

A little belly laugh emerges from under the towel.

"And then he puts them on a plate and eats them!!"

She's so dainty, isn't she, always the perfect little lady. That's what she gets for having two older brothers.

Later on that day we were all cuddled on the couch watching tv. I began to hear thunder off in the distance and knew we were in for a storm.

"It sounds like the Angels are warming up for another bowling game."

R.: "They are?"

"Yes, don't you hear the thunder?" And with that there was the thunder.

"Um Hum." she says very quietly as she looks out the window.

"Who's going to win tonight? The Angels or Grandpa?"

"Grandpa, but the Angels should really read a book."

"Why?"

"Because it's quieter!"

She snuggles in closer and I just know she is praying that the storm is over quickly.

The "Talk" Is Inevitable!

Okay all, when is the proper age for the "talk"? When they begin asking questions? Or if they are pretty innocent and really don't ask anything, is there an age that a parent should ease into it?

W. is my first child, so I'm new to this area of parenting. I know it's only a matter of time before he catches on to something a classmate or friend says at school. He'll come home wondering what it all means. We've already had some close calls with this, this, and this.

Over the weekend Mr. Schmitty was watching Animal Planet. The kids really love animals and were watching along with him. He and I started talking, uninterrupted for once, as the kids were glued to the tv. We weren't paying attention to the program because, well, we were TALKING! A rarity in a house of three children.

Anyway, W. asks, "What's that?"

"Those are dolphins," Mr. Schmitty says as he continues our conversation.

Mr. Schmitty is really great at blurting out an answer to a question without really paying attention to what's actually going on. He'll just say something. It drives me crazy. He's not very observant, for example, a pink polka-doted elephant could be sitting in the living room and as long as it is out of Mr. Schmitty's direct line of sight to the tv screen, well, he'll never see it. It could even fart and he'd think it was the puppy.

Now, of course, moms are multi-taskers, I can continue the conversation, look at the tv, answer W., AND mop the floor, change a diaper, and chew gum, all at the same time. Mr. Schmitty trips when chewing gum.

SO, I blow a bubble, nod to Mr. Schmitty, look at the tv, and say, "This is yours sweetie."

"What do you want to know, buddy," Mr. Schmitty says as he turns his head from my direction.

"What's that dad?"

My husband's head stops and he glances up at me. The look in his eyes lets me know he is spewing curse words at me in his mind.

"Hey pal, you were watching the show, not me," I say with a grin.

He turns back to W., "That's an egg."

"I know what that is, but what are those other things swimming around that look like tadpoles?"

I cross my arms and grin wider, "Yea dad, what are they?"

"Just what you said, good thinking, they are tadpoles!"

What a wuss.

Did I Just Talk Completely In A Circle?

Last week I was at my friend and neighbor, J.'s, house. It was her daughter's birthday so T. and R. were invited over for some festivities. While the kids were playing she and I sat down for a gossip session.

Our town is pretty large for the area we live in. Most of the larger towns are usually split up, as our is, into sections. Ours has three; the rich, the well-off, and the we're doing okay 'cause there's food on the table. We fall into the latter of the categories. We are referred to as Mayberry. I type this as I am rolling my eyes. It's more like Peyton Place.

But the gossip J. and I share is usually fun and we both know that it goes no further than between us. Okay and between you all and me.

I digress.

J. asks me if I know a girl in the third grade named A. "No, why?" I reply.

"Remember the girl who kept calling B. (her son) at 6:30 in the morning and 11:00 at night a while back?"

"Yes! Okay, what now?"

"Oh my God! Make sure W. hasn't spoken to her recently." She proceeds to tell me that this A. was telling children in her son's class about a website that had "Naked people bumping together." This apparently unsupervised at home child was then writing down the URL for the now curious classroom full of 8 year olds. And from what J. heard it's not the first time.

"Oh nice."

Now, I feel for this girl. It seems to me that she isn't getting the proper attention she should be. I'm not trying to judge her situation because honestly I don't know what it is. But I also don't need my child learning about the horizontal mambo from a porn site.

I told J. that I didn't think W. had contact with A. He's never mentioned her name before.

Tonight I tucked the boys into bed and said goodnight. I walked toward the bedroom door. As usually W., who has ignored me all afternoon because he has important things to do like play Dragonball Z on Playstation and stuff, decides he wants to engage me in conversation. You know, that last stall tactic to stay up past bedtime.

"Mom, guess what? A. had to have detention 3 days in a row!"

I stopped dead in my tracks. *Sigh* I turned around.

"You know A.?"

"Yea, she's my friend."

Why, why, WHY do they always find my sweet boy? It's like vultures on a dead carcass.

"When did she become your friend? I've never heard you mention her before."

"I don't know, but she likes me."

My phone BEST not be ringing at the butt crack of dawn if she knows what's good for her!

"She likes you, huh? Well, you can be nice to her, but I'd rather you play with the friends you already have."

"Why?"

"Well, let's just say she doesn't always make the right choices."

"But how do I break up with her?"

Break up with her?! Oh crap she's going to wake me up in the morning, isn't she? No, no, NO!! Think, think.

Nothing is going to come out right. What do I say? She's trouble? She's only 8, part of me feels for her. Is it her fault or just lack of guidance?

"Well W. first of all you aren't breaking up with her because she is your classmate, not your girlfriend. Second of all you can be nice to her but sometimes the decisions she makes aren't always the right ones. I have to look out for you and I don't want you to maybe get into trouble because you wanted to be her friend. You know what's right and what's wrong, you need to use your own mind and make the right choices."

I'm not sure if he understood, I'm not sure if I did. But he said okay and then goodnight.

I'm going to suck at this when he's a teenager.

Shakin' It For Shrek!

I was lying down for a bit yesterday because my grass and tree allergies basically rendered me a sniveling, useless lump of a woman. After practically breaking down my bedroom door, R. jumped in my bed for a snuggle. God forbid mommy get any alone time, but she's a good one to snuggle with so I really didn't mind.

"Mama, what do fishies eat?"

As I said, I'm feeling lousy and not really up for 20 questions. I reply, "Fishy food."

"Oh. What do seahorsies eat?"

"Seashorsy food", I sniffle, sneeze, and blow my red, sore nose.

"Oh. Whaaaaaat dooooo, hmmmm, lions eat?"

"Little girls named R.", because you know I love to mess with my kid's minds and I really want to just close my eyes at this point.

"Oh, mama, you're so silly. Really, what do they eat?"

"They eat antelopes and stuff", I say, with a little cringe hoping she doesn't start wanting details.

She just looked at me for a moment and then yelled, "I LOVE cantaloupe too!"

Satisfied with the conversation, she cuddled up next to me in the bed. I closed my eyes and then heard something strange. It was the most annoying sound. I opened one eye and saw the new Shrek baby toy she had gotten from McDonald's. Have your kids gotten one yet? When you push the button it breaks wind and then giggles. It's face is even painted to look like it's squeaking one out. I thought it was funny when I first saw it but now it's grinding on my last nerve.

The whole Shrek The Third advertising campaign is nuts! Now, I love Shrek as much as anybody and I couldn't wait to take the kids to see the movie. But besides the gazillion commercials and toys, the face of Shrek, Donkey, and Puss In Boots is plastered everywhere. McDonalds has them on the Happy Meals, on glasses, on the milk jugs, and even the straws are green!

I went food shopping the other day and needed blinders for T. and R. because every aisle we entered was the same. "Mommy, can we get that cereal? Shrek is on it!" and "Mommy look I love those waffles because look, it's Donkey!" I was waiting to find Puss In Boots on a box of Tampax tampons!

R. started freaking out when I said no to buying Cheetos with Shrek's mug on them. They turn your tongue green when you eat them! THEY.TURN.YOUR.TONGUE.GREEN! I drew the line, because that just can't be healthy. And really, it's kind of gross.

She said she would do the booty dance for me if I bought them. R. has a little dance she does now that is hilarious. She shakes her butt back and forth slowly and squats up and down while doing it. I keep telling Mr. Schmitty I am going to buy her a stripper pole. Needless to say, he doesn't find it amusing. She and I settled on a kiss for a bag of Shrek M&M's, not to worry honey, nobody in town saw her shake her groove thang!

Mommy In Training

I overheard R. having a conversation with Ruby this morning. Well, it was more of a one sided-conversation because, well, Ruby is a dog. Though I think if she could speak she would have sounded like W. when I speak to him. She would have been rolling her eyes and all attitude.

T. was still asleep in his bed. He is definitely going to be one of those teenagers that stays up all night and sleeps all day, I see it coming. Every morning I have to pull all of the shades up, rip the covers off of him, and repeat over and over, "T. get up!"

Okay, where was I? Oh yea, T. was still sawing wood and his bedroom door was ajar. I have been keeping the bedroom doors closed to keep Ruby out. I really don't want to start smelling dog poop in the middle of the night because she went under my bed. But W. must have left his door open and Ruby snuck in, under the watchful eye of R.

I was in my bedroom and was about to walk out when I heard her. I stopped and listened in the dark. I heard the tone of her normally adorable voice change to one of authority. "Oh.My.God, she's a mini-me!" I thought to myself.

"Ruby, you can't be in there!" "Ruuuuuby!" "Ruuuubyyyyy!"

"Hmmmmph!" She throws the door open, "Who left this door open?" "Ruby, where are you?"

Ruby apparently has a sock in her mouth and is gnawing on it. "My boys left their clothes on the floor!" And yes, she refers to W. and T. as My Boys. "Hmmmmph! That goes in here!" I hear the lid to the hamper shut. I'm stifling laughs.

"Now Ruby you get out. Ruby out!" She is getting a taste of what I go through daily with the Schmitty kids, complete and total tune-out.

I can almost hear her stomp her bare foot on the rug, grit her teeth, and make her fists. "Ruby! Out! Now!"

It must have worked because then I hear the door slam. "Now, you know you can't go in there. Stay out."

She goes downstairs and says to W., "You left the door open. You left your clothes on the floor. Ruby got in. You can't do that!"

Oh SNAP!

She just reamed out her 8 year old brother!

Suddenly the bedroom door opens again. T. comes out rubbing his eyes.

"Hey T., did you hear R.?"

"Uh-huh."

"Isn't she so cute?"

He stops, scowls at me and says, "Not at all."

Oooops, I guess Her Boys aren't real happy with her today!