Mr. Sandman

One of the things we have so far been unsuccessful at teaching the boys is how to dump the sand out of their shoes before they take them off On My Bed.

We have been trying for years, to no avail.

I am losing hope. So much so, that I now just beg them at the very least to empty their shoes on their Dad's side. I mean, is that so much to ask? I don't even know how these boys play in the sand. The huge quantities that end up dispursed between the living room and my sheets (mostly my sheets!) lead us to ask two very relevant questions.

1. Do kids these days use their shoes as shovels? Or some sort of shoe
   shaped castle mold?


2. And, how much money does the daycare center allocate to the sandbox refills? A staggering amount, I'd guess.

That is your background for our Friday night escapades. Although the sand is a bother, it was only the beginning.

10:00 PM - Retreat to bed.

10:05 PM - Realize that someone has built a sand castle on my pillow (not literally).

10:08 PM - Make the executive decision to be "one with nature" and refrain from starting a load of laundry.

10:10 PM - Toss and turn while composing a letter in my head about how sandboxes should be outlawed in daycares, and eventually enter dreamland.

2:08 AM - Awake to a crying three year old, upset that his legs hurt.

2:08 AM -2:20 AM -Rub legs and eventually re-enter dreamland.

3:30 AM - Awake to flailing legs...and horizontal sleeping child.

repeat. repeat. repeat.

5:02 AM - Awake to oldest child because his alarm clock went off*** at the wrong time.

5:06 AM - Oldest child sandwiches himself between my pillow, the sandbox, the horizontal sleeping child that kicks, and the husband.

5:08 AM - 5:52 AM - Dodge kicking three year old and try to ignore wiggly five year old. Bury head in pillow.

5:54 AM - Secretly sneak into the guest bedroom with husband. Peace and quiet fills the room until they find us.

6:30 AM - Overhear youngest son bribe oldest son to open a package of poptarts. Ignore bribes. Bury head further in pillow.

7:48 AM - Awake to screaming children. THERE IS A SCORPIAN!!! In. The. Living. ROOM!!***

And that was our cue to get up and around. In hindsight, I should have facebooked my whole night through status updates. That would have really made it interesting.

Lisa is avoiding scorpians in her sandbox of a bed.

***We are 99% certain the oldest child has a properly working alarm clock. However, proving that in the wee hours of the morning has slipped as a priority. This is a reoccuring theme.

***The "scorpian" was never found. After further discussion it was announced he was only about a centimeter long, but did have a sharp tail, much like a scorpian.