Misheru

[Note: After posting this, I got a few alarmed calls from family and some e-mails from friends, worrying Marti had become an alcoholic. Don’t worry, we’re still in denial…I mean, of course he isn’t an alcoholic! He tells me he isn’t! Really, though, Marti points out that he didn’t actually drink the rum, he just poured it into a glass. And he bought the bottle to make rum frosting, which I have to admit was delicious enough I gained 5 pounds. So whatever, I won’t start worrying until I find rum hidden in the sofa along with all the goldfish and M&Ms.]

Tonight Marti went out, and I noticed he’d left a small glass filled with what looked like soda and ice sitting on The Ledge above the couch in our living room. The kids occasionally stand on the couch and pilfer small items from The Ledge — mainly sharp objects like scissors, or my wedding ring, or other fun children’s toys — so I keep an eye out for problematic items hanging out on The Ledge. Tonight there was a straw hat, a collection of books and some pecans, along with the glass of soda, so it seemed harmless enough.

After Marti left, Maya of course bee-lined to The Ledge and lifted down the soda with infinite care (she only spilled half). She’d been busily taking apart my wallet but had gotten bored (these credit cards again? Let’s shove them in the couch) so she went for The Ledge to see if anything dangerous was there. Well, after lifting down the soda she had a short tussle with the cushions and then finally she sat down and started drinking the “soda,” as we’ll call it now. Her tussle had spilled a bit more, and she spilled even more on her shirt (I don’t drink much, I sp-sp-spill most of it). At that point I caught a certain scent…was it college days? Hmmm. And suddenly it hit me — it was rum! Rum! Rum and LeeAnn and I puking up Bacardi rum and cokes, and…Maya was holding a half-full glass of rum AND SIPPING IT.

Yes, I took it away from her, and she kicked up a fuss and I found myself saying, “No Maya! You can’t have any more rum!” She got her revenge, though. Twenty minutes later I was running through the house with dripping towels — she had pooped in the bath.

She went out like a light when I laid her in her crib tonight. I’m sure it had nothing to do with…the rum. It was probably all the playing. And pooping.

So tonight I sat down and saw these “gag” instructions and nearly wet my pants because this one? I really could have used this one a few hours ago. Go ahead, laugh at these instructions, but you never know — ONE DAY YOU JUST MIGHT NEED THEM.