Mondays are laundry day. They are the only day of the week we have to wash all of the blankets, towels, rags, clothes, and anything else that may have been soiled throughout the week. Today I even had to wash laundry from our vacation that was already clean because the doctor said it was necessary to avoid worsening Juju's rash (allergic reaction to something that broke her out and caused blistery things to pop up all over her poor body). This means that today I had 8. Loads. Of. Laundry. Blah. I didn't even bother getting dressed. I am wearing a pajama shirt and basketball shorts because I do not want to have to wash one more thing.
Anyway, our laundry room is located in the back of the apartment. To get there, I either have to walk around the building outside or go through apartment 1's hallway. I chose option 2 since I was in shorts and it was cold. Plus, none of those boys were home. Well, Peyton tried to follow me and I told her to stay in our apartment.
Did she listen? No. What did she do instead? She locked me out of our apartment. I banged on the back door and threatened and bribed but she wouldn't open the door. After a while I could tell she was long gone. I walked (with no shoes, mind you) around my house. In the snow and ice. What did I find when I reached the front door? Yep! She locked that one, too. I could hear my poor Juju crying. I was panicking because when Juju is upset Peyton sometimes tries to feed her paper because she knows Juju likes to play with paper. Thankfully, I have always been around to stop this. Not this time, though.
So there I was. Freezing on the porch. Then I heard Peyton cry. It wasn't the pouty cry, either. It was the "I'm hurt" cry. AGH! What's a mother to do!? Well, I was finally able to break into my house. On my way to save Peyton from her own shinanigan I found Loralie. Chewing up my husband's W2's. Ugh. They are ripped apart and soggy. Great. But, thankfully Juju was happy and not choking.
Then I saw Peyton running down the hallway screaming "Popeye's eyes! Popeye's eyes! OWWWW! Popeye's eyes!" If I were not so worried I would have gotten a picture because she was quite a sight. The front of her hair was foamy and completely slicked back and the rest of her hair was sticking straight out. She had managed to open the liquid hand soap by the bathroom and dump it all out on her head. She got it in her eyes and it was quite an ordeal for her. When I tried to flush it out she screamed, "You're hurting Popeye! Oww! No, please, Mom! Popeye is sorry!"
Sometimes I don't know what to do with that kid. Sigh. Things are much calmer now. At 6:30pm our last load of laundry is now in the washing machine and Peyton and Juju are laughing and tickling each other. I love those two.
Oh! Want to know something unrelated to laundry that makes me chuckle? Peyton can't play peek-a-boo with Juju because Juju cries. It terrifies the poor girl. Every time Peyton reappears Juju looks stunned and loses it. I don't know why because she doesn't mind when Chris and I do it. I guess they'll just have to stick to tickle games.
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5 comments:
yikes! so does Peyton call herself 'Popeye'?
I think you need to write a book about all your adventures with Peyton.
Yes, Sister VT. Mitch and Emily call her Princess PeyPey. When Peyton tries to say "PeyPey" it comes out "Popeye."
Just to clarify, Peyton did listen. She stayed in the apartment. Did you tell her, "Do not lock Mommy out, please."? I think not. And I believe that an eyeful of hand soap is sufficient punishment, don't you?
She had to leave our apartment to lock me in the laundry room.
And after taking care of the soap thing I snuggled with her and we shared a bowl of ice cream. I would rather her learn a lesson than be punnished and I'm thinking soapy eyes taught her a lot...now we need to work on memory retention:)
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