Another typical evening...

It was a lovely evening. I got home at about a quarter to six where Brad and I were set to do the "tag, you're it" thing as he was heading down to Washington for a two day conference. The evil wonder dog who just hates it when someone (anyone) leaves the house is barking up a storm to show his extreme displeasure. Brad and I have to execute a last minute fantasy football trade so I actually have a QB that's starting this week. The idiot dog keeps barking. The pasta Brad started has to be finished. The dog is stepping up his efforts. The kitchen table that somehow got piled with all manner of non dinner-like things gets cleared. The dog keeps barking. Fights are broken up (that's a bit strong). The dog keeps barking. The dinner is finished and set out. The dog keeps barking. Brad's finally ready to get the Hell out of dodge in the barest of moments before I commit canine-acide. Finally with Brad actually gone and no longer leaving the stupid dog finally shuts the *&%% up.

The boys have been in a mood all evening long. I haven't yet had a chance to change out of my work clothes. They are alternating between playing very loud gags on each other and screaming "MOM, MAKE HIM LEAVE ME ALONE" They are alternating who yells this. It's very fun. I sit down and work with Jackson on his project due Friday, get the kids dessert and the kitchen back in some semblance of order (not clean mind you, that would be far, far too much to ask for tonight). They want me to move my car so they can play basketball and I think hallelujah a minute of peace. I move the car they go outside. They come back within 3 minutes - 'Hey mom, there's a guy outside who wants to talk to you.' Oh, did I mention the dog is barking again - there are humans outside. Maybe they're leaving. It's his civic duty to bark constantly just in case he can convince someone not to leave.

I go outside, I still haven't changed my clothes. Some high school kid wants to sell me something - some version of a coupon book I think, but man he gives me the worst - and I do mean the worst pitch ever. I cut him off and tell him I'm not interested. "Dude, you can't be serious!" "I am, and now it's dark. Boys, it's time to come inside." I think he might have continued to blather on about something, but I was already heading inside. (Parents, teach your kids how to pitch the stupid things they have to sell. Start with an introduction. Something that sounds remotely polite - geesh) Anyway... The boys beg to finish the game they're playing, I give them three more minutes (really more for me than for them).

And then the crying started. In comes Teddy with his hands over his mouth crying hard. I open my arms to take him in, he shifts his hands and there's blood everywhere. I quickly change tactics because there's really no reason to get blood all over my favorite white shirt that I still haven't taken off yet. But alas, as I lead him to the sink to see what we're dealing with I see I wasn't fast enough and my right shoulder is miraculously covered in blood - woo hoo. It's just a small cut from his tooth on his bottom lip. Jackson who ran in right behind him is upset that he hurt his brother. "I'm so so so sorry, I didn't mean to hit him in the face, I was just throwing it back to him." Jack can't stand still. Nor can he shut up. Oh wait - guess what, the dog is barking. There's a lot of commotion going on in the kitchen; Ted crying, Jack apologizing, Mom calming... There's much to bark about.

I got a dish towel on his mouth while I went to get ice. I begged the dog to shut the $@T% up. I tried to calm Jackson and get him to stop talking. But then Ted decides threatening his brother is the best course of action. So every time I turn my back to get ice or kick I mean pet the dog, Ted does something like shake his fist at Jack, or lunge towards him. Jack is near tears, periodically crying out in terror. He already feels guilty and now he's scared too. OKAY - EVERYONE SHUT THE &*&% UP! Okay I didn't really yell that, but I wanted to; really, really wanted to. "Jackson, I know you didn't mean to make him bleed, but go upstairs and read." One down. Kill the dog (why can't I do that? - that would have been two down). Get ice on Teddy's lip and get him cleaned up. Okay Ted, let's go upstairs and get ready for bed. He goes up before me while I close the garage door and close down the first floor.

By the time I get upstairs Jackson is crying and holding a ripped book. "Ted ripped my book on purpose" Well this does go with the threatening behavior downstairs, he doesn't usually go towards book ripping, but he's certainly been known to wreck Jack's Lego projects in the past. "Teddy that wasn't necessary, you know better than that." This is my calm and reasonable facade, the one that hides the raging homicidal lunatic that is begging and pleading to come out. "But it was an accident Mom, I promise." It sounds like he's telling the truth, but of course so does the crying Jackson in the other corner.

Mom: You know what Ted, this is something you'd do. I don't know if you did it this time, but it's the kind of rude and obnoxious behavior that have been your hallmark for the past few months, so it's really hard for me to believe you that this one time you happened to not mess up something of Jackson's, especially after the way you were threatening him downstairs.

Ted: He bloodied my lip.

M: You know perfectly well he would never intend to hurt you like that.
He gives me the look that says "mom, you have got to be kidding".

M: No more than you would try to hurt him that way, would you ever intentionally try to make him bleed.

I was really hoping he'd think about it before he answered vs. just letting his pride answer. He did, phew.

T: ok, no I wouldn't.

M: and neither did he.

He reluctantly agreed with me but is now totally pissed at me because I just won't outright believe ripping the book was an accident. He keeps looking at me with the "my mom is calling me a liar to my face" puppy dog eyes.

Oh well...