Mom’s Everyday Mealtime Madness

It happens almost every night. Mom makes Timmy, Tom, and I sit still and do our homework while she makes dinner before daddy comes home from work. If we didn’t have anything sent home or we finished early, she would give us something creative to do to keep us busy.

She has a peculiar way of finding things for us to do so she could keep her eye on us. I don’t understand why. She says it’s so she doesn’t burn tonight’s dinner.

Just because last week while mommy was cooking dinner, these minor things happened:

On Monday, Timmy got his head stuck in daddy’s desk chair because Tom double-dog-dared him to try and crawl through it.

That same afternoon, Tom got this arm caught trying to make a slam dunk.

When I decided to curl my hair pretty, it didn’t turn out so good. The smell was so ugly it brought mommy running in from helping Tom down from his net.

Timmy doesn’t have much luck with chairs because he was reaching for a book on a shelf. Well, he got the book, but he also got the other ten books on the shelf as well.

And Tom thinks just because he is twelve, he can shave like daddy. He was wrong. He cut himself, and mommy almost cried when she saw him.

So, I tried to help mommy with housework, but she didn’t seem to like it when I poured a bucket of water on the floor to mop. All of this happened on Tuesday.

On Wednesday, Tom dared Timmy to run outside in his underwear.

Then, he tried to get me and Timmy to eat a worm saying he saw it on a TV show.

Later, there was a loud crash in Tom’s room, and when asked what happened, Timmy said, “I hit my head.” When mom asked, “with what?” Tom said, “the wall.”

On Thursday, Tom came to dinner, missing an eyebrow.

Earlier, I had tried to help with ironing. “Did you know that an iron would leave a burn mark on carpet?”

Nor did Timmy know the marker was permanent, he can barely read.

Then came Friday when Tom broke a window, “It was just a tiny marble,” he said.

And sometime during the week, Timmy brought in a frog, and we are still looking for it.

We just don’t understand why mommy has us sit here being bored. We are really perfect little angels, even though she doesn’t see it. But here we sit, doing our math, spelling, and writing our essays. Then we will do our creative crafts that our peculiar mom has us doing so she can keep her eyes on us. All so daddy can enjoy a meal that is not burned by mom’s mealtime madness.

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