Pursuant to an impassioned plea by daltonboy, jr., resident funny man, I share the following:
DBJ left for Mutual before dinner. When he came back, he was hungry. The rest of us were going to bed. I suggested a microwaved potato, said goodnight, went to my room, and closed the door.
Understand that a closed bedroom door to our children means, "Please make up any excuse to talk to the people in this room, knock repeatedly, and ask to come in. If the people say no, ask why. If they still resist, continue to knock and beg until they stop what they are doing, get dressed (if necessary), and let you in."
A few seconds later, the knocking started.
Daltonboy: Yes?
Tweengirl: Can I come in?
Me: No.
TG: Why not?
[whispered conference ensues--what should we say this time?]
Me: Because.
TG: Oh. But I really need to talk to you.
Me: About what?
They never seem to have the sense to think up a story before they knock, so it takes them a while to come up with something.
TG: Um . . . well . . . my bike has a flat tire.
Me: Okay, well, we'll deal with that another time. Goodnight.
TG (defeated): Okay.
A minute, possibly less, goes by. A knock at the door.
DB: What?
DBJ: Um . . . how long do I microwave this potato?
Me: Just press the cook button, and turn the dial until you see "Baked Potato" come up. Then press "Start."
DBJ: Oh. Okay.
A minute later. Knock, knock. Oh, and the funny thing is, they knock really softly, even timidly, like they don't want to disturb us. But isn't the whole point of knocking to grab the attention of whomever is in the room?
DB: WHAT?!?
DBJ: Uh . . . is the potato going to explode?
Me: No.
DB: Not if you poked holes in it.
DBJ: Oh. (meaningful pause) Okay.
A minute later. DB and I are discussing the possibility of a potato exploding in the microwave.
Me: Anyway, it's not going to explode unless you put it in there for like ten minutes. Or more.
KABOOM!!!!!
I start laughing hysterically. DB tries to shush me, so as to avoid hurting DBJ's feelings. Neither one of us can stop laughing. DB says, "I've got to see this," gets up, puts on his robe, and goes out into the kitchen, to find DBJ laughing, holding his twenty pound statistics textbook. "Hahahahahaha, I just dropped this," he says. DB laughs, and returns to room. Closes door. We continue to laugh. Ten seconds go by. Knock, knock.
Me: Yeeeeeess?
TG: Can I come in?
Me: No.
TG: But I really need to talk to you.
Me: Oh, what the heck. Come on in.
TG (enters): That scared me.
Note to self: In the morning, 1) post detailed potato-nuking instructions over microwave. 2) Make a list of all the things to discuss and do before bed. 3) Start bedtime ritual at 6:00 p.m.
6 comments:
That is too funny. DBJ gets points for being funny and you and DB get points for also thinking it was funny and not freaking out about it.
You must be a mean, mean mom to not think that these burning issues are important! What if she NEEDED to ride her bike somewhere? At midnight?
Just kidding. I've pretty much always sung you praises for being a cool, normal, right-thinking mom person. As opposed to the mom who keeps coming to my classroom EVERY STINKING DAY in order to clean out her 12 year old son's desk and demand that I add all the assignments she finds to his grades. Also, she carries her kindgartener in on her hip when she does this. This is particularly amusing because the five year old in question is an amazon child and almost as tall as me.
One day, I put a potato in the oven, washed and unwrapped. I didn't poke holes in said potato. about 60 minutes into the 90 baking of mr. potato, I remembered I hadn't poked holes in it. Too late.
It baked cleanly without an explosion UNTIL I PICKED IT UP and turned it over. Then it exploded on my face.
Another time--same story through 60-70 minutes. When I remembered to go poke holes, I was just going over to the oven when it exploded. The cool part was that the skin of the potato had flown accross the oven and was sitting 1.5-2 feet away from where it started. The insides had fallen straight down and landed on the oven floor. I envisioned in my mind the potato flying around the oven like a deflating balloon...
I've also noticed the phenomenon of children trying to disturb you without disturbing you. If I'm on the phone and the kids want to talk to me, I tell them that I can't talk right now. So then they try to talk to me without disturbing me by whispering very loudly.
I also agree that knocking is disturbing. If I ever have to enter a classroom late at church, I try to open the door as quietly as possible and slip in. When I was in Japan I noticed that it's just the opposite. Whenever anyone enters a classroom late at church in Japan, the person always knocks first, disturbing the entire class.
I think a good thing to do would be to keep a spray bottle of water by your bed, and when someone knocks on the door you should open the door, spray them in the face, and then shut the door again.
That's how they teach dogs.
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I'm with Nemesis.
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