The Night Of A Thousand LaughsPosted by admin - 02/01/16 at 08:01 pm
The holiday season officially came to an end last night in pretty much every way possible, so happy new year to all.
My two twelve-year-old nephews have been staying with us, which is fun. They’re twelve, they’re funny, it’s good having them around even though they’re basically two small hurricanes that spend most of their time playing X-Box. We’ve had a week to all hang out, and they’re going home early Saturday morning.
Here’s how the last 24 hours have gone.
One of the kids ate four hot dogs, not three, and won’t admit it, thus causing an all-night back-and-forth debate between the two kids over truth, gluttony, and every other time anyone in the family got something that one of the other kids didn’t over the past twelve years. I don’t know how they do in school, but they certainly have an encyclopedic recall of exactly every perceived wrong that has occurred in their lifetimes.
Since they don’t do dishes, they just dump all their dirties into the sink where they sit until someone whose name rhymes with “Schmeed” can clean it up. Somehow a small glass got set in the wrong side of the sink, the one with the garbage disposal, then enough dishes landed on top of it that it got pushed through and when I turned it on, it detonated like an IED. The disposal no longer works, even after I painstakingly removed about 50% of the remnants of the glass from the blades while using 110% of my available profanity.
We discovered this morning that the bathroom they’ve been using is out of toilet paper and has been for three days, during which no one has mentioned it to us so we could replace the empty rolls with full ones, which are located literally eight feet from the bathroom. In that time, the kids have been using bathroom wipes to clean themselves, and then dropping them into the small trash can in the bathroom. So that bathroom has a certain “truck stop next to a Mexican restaurant” ambiance to it.
They were leaving early this morning, so neither of them slept a wink. The insanity of the night was accentuated by a fairly regular system of running and screaming and crying, about 70% of which was from the kids, and the rest from adults fruitlessly telling them to shut up and lay down.
The kicker of the evening was at 4:30am. One of the boys made a bowl of Hormel chili around midnight, it seems. Then at 4:30 he became sick to his stomach, because that’s the purpose of Hormel chili. It says right on the can, “Chili With Beans…Enjoy Your Stomach Cramps!”
Rather than turn and step five feet into the bathroom to hurl, he ran the length of the house to the kitchen, producing a sound as if a team of Clydesdales was attempting to curbstomp a fully loaded clown car to death.
For some reason he thought the proper procedure was to skip the toilet and throw up into a trash can. And thankfully, he got off the carpet and onto the hardwood before he exploded onto the floor, sink, trash can, wall, pantry, and exterior door to the garage. Like a yard sprinkler filled with retch, this boy created some impressive performance art.
My wife cleaned it up, because I pretended to be asleep and she realized it was probably a good idea if she also pretended that.
So happy new year everybody! Like I always say, a year you start burning through two cans of bleach wipes cleaning up vomit is destined to be a good one.
— Reid Kerr realizes that the more male children you have in one small area, the more dangerous they become.