Scenes From This Weekend

I hope you don’t mind the format of this post. I wanted to write about a few different things which happened this weekend which aren’t necessarily connected, but also not worthy of entire posts devoted to them. Well, except the frog story. That will likely continue into another post this week.

After dinner on Saturday, my two year old son, E, was walking around the house pointing at us, saying, “You’re awesome!” while smiling and laughing, thoroughly entertained with his new phrase.

“You’re awesome!”

Future motivational speaker?

****

Woke up Sunday and the living room looked like two tornadoes just finished fighting one another. While my wife was taking a shower, E had dumped all 12 plastic bins of his storage organizer right in the middle of the living room. Cars, trains, books, coloring books, stuffed animals, basically everything he owns, was scattered from one end of the living room to the other.

Here’s the weird part. He likes cleaning. Yes, let me say that again, he likes cleaning. I think he makes messes just so he can be told to put things back in their places. If that isn’t a sign of OCD, I don’t know what is.

Of course, a mess that big, he can’t clean up alone – not the right way, anyway, as he can’t put the bins back in their places – so my wife and I were helping him pick up the mess later in the day.

****

On Sunday night we were watching the scene in Toy Story where Buzz Lightyear wants to fly. My son hopped off the couch and began to run around the living room with his arms outstretched as if he were flying.

“I’m gonna fly!”

Suddenly, he stopped, and said, with some concern as if he were just realizing it for the first time, “I can’t fly.”

****

Later in the night, I was microwaving some dish sponges because that’s how the experts say you’re supposed to get rid of the bacteria in them. However, the experts didn’t say I shouldn’t microwave the sponges with the scratchy backs.

About six minutes in, an awful smell filled the kitchen, the backs of the sponges were black and burning and probably releasing all sorts of toxins into my house.

I opened all the windows and the back door, leaving the screen part closed so the cats didn’t get out and wildlife didn’t get in.

Well, the screen did one of the jobs correctly.

A small frog sneaked into our house. My wife was freaking out and my son was hopping up and down excitedly while I was searching for something to catch it. The closest thing I could find was a big blue plastic pasta strainer.

So there I was, in all my 6’4’’, 340 pound  glory, holding a big blue strainer, trying to corner the frog.

Let’s just say, if I were suddenly in charge of hunting frogs to feed my family, my family would likely need to find a new patriarch.

The frog hopped right past me. Wow, these little bastards are fast! My son burst out laughing, jumping up and down as the frog escaped into the storage organizer which we’d just finished sorting out a few hours earlier.

I let fly with a few curse words as I started yanking plastic bins out, looking for the little bastard frog.

The bastard frog vanished!

I looked everywhere in the immediate area and couldn’t find him anywhere. I’m assuming he’s a guy frog because female frogs wouldn’t be so reckless as to jump into a house with two cats and a toddler.

Meanwhile, the cats, who love to chase their own shadows and act all tough and howl and hiss whenever there’s another cat or bizard (lizard) OUTSIDE the back door, were nowhere to be found during the frog crisis!

So now we play the waiting game, hoping to find the frog before either the cats kill it, we step on it, or E find it and puts it in his mouth.

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