Turkey Basters and Ramen Soup

Sometimes I think Owen was put on Earth for comic relief. Not my own comic relief, but perhaps someone else's.

My husband asked me to buy a turkey baster because our lawn mower isn't working, and he thought he might need it when trying to fix it...I'm not sure what he's going to do with it, but I generally don't ask when it comes to those things. So, we have this turkey baster lying around the house, which for some reason, is a fascinating object for children. Irelynn carried it around and would aim it at people's faces and blow out air at them. Connor used it as a drumstick. Owen put it down his pants.

"Owen...do NOT put the turkey baster down your pants." A phrase I never thought I'd be saying, ever.

I could probably fill a book with phrases that I have uttered throughout motherhood that I never thought I would say:

"Owen, stop pretending your butt is a guitar."

"We do NOT throw poop at walls!!"

"The plunger is NOT a toy."

"Stop shooting the cat!"

Oddly enough, most of the phrases were directed at Owen...or a combination of Owen and another child.

The turkey baster was actually the more tame part of the day. The oldest girl came home in a mood that made the dog cower and her siblings try to steer clear. I'm not sure what happened at school that day, but I pity the fool who pissed her off.

While she was storming through the house, I was trying to figure out an early dinner because we had two Tae Kwon Do classes that night (Irelynn takes the older kids class, followed by the boys' Tiny Tigers class.) We had to be ready and out the door by 6pm. I decided to grill some turkey burgers. I seasoned them, and walked away for a moment, to see what the boys were doing. They were occupied by the old Nintendo downstairs, and Jay was with Irelynn on the neighbor's trampoline...okay...all kids accounted for, and busy. I turn back to the burgers to find Onyx...paws on the counter...EATING THE RAW BURGERS.

"ONYX!!!!  Bad dog! NO!!!"

Jay and Irelynn walked in the back door...both of them sans shirt.

"Irelynn...where is your shirt?!"

"I took it off. It was hot out there. Besides, Jay took HIS off..."

Thoughts of creepy neighbor guys watching from their windows drift into my mind, and I explain to her that she is getting old enough now that it is not appropriate for girls to take off their shirts outside. I really didn't think I'd have to have that conversation yet.

Back to dinner. I call Bruce to whine about the dog, and we decide that I should just make some Ramen soup, and that he and I could eat a salad. Okay. Oh, and he mentioned that he was running late because his boss called and requested something. Perfect.

So, we somehow got through dinner, got kids in uniforms, and got out the door on time.

Irelynn has informed me that tonight she wrote "spaghetti" on the menu calendar. Perhaps I should have a back-up plan, just in case. As long as it doesn't require the use of a turkey baster, I think we'll be fine...