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Today I’m hanging out with the Littles, as I have now taken to calling my daycare babies when en masse. It’s nice, efficient, and works out well for those moments when I can’t remember my own name, let alone theirs. The Littles have decided that yesterday was NOT going to be a repeat. No way were they getting fenced in to the daycare area. They wanted the whole damn house.

And seeing as how they figured out how to move the gate and the furniture that keeps them in the area I decided to be wonderful and let them have the house.

Witty- WTF?! were you thinking

The Littles are now roaming around the entire living room, dining room, kitchen, and hallway of the house. They think life is fabulous! Until Ms. Heather decides to be a big meanie and bake cookies…I gate off the kitchen. The Littles decide the 3 foot by 8 foot area I am in now looks like fucking Disneyland, and the Littles haven’t been invited in.

I am baking away and every so often one of the Littles gets picked up from the gate and shown the mixer and gets to move a knob and hold a rubber spatula.  As I’m talking to the Littles from the kitchen, they decide to bring every toy under the dining room table. When I go to crawl under the table, the Littles hold onto the chairs and giggle. Devious Littles. I ask permission to play under there and the Big Little shakes his head no and says “no, no” to me. Well I’ll be damned, the Littles are pretty vindictive.

The cookies are done so I grab one and sit just outside their fort and wait for both of them to see me. Once I feel their eyes on me I show them the cookie and make a big production of eating it. (Guess we know where they learned the “payback’s a bitch” move, huh?)

As the Littles desperately try to figure out how they got under the table, their rational minds turn off and they switch on the cookie section of their brains. The Littles will never get out of there alive; that fort just became a prison!

And like a good little guard, I nudge a chair over and the Littles spill out in front of me. I gift them each a cookie the Littles have a cookie picnic on the floor.

Like I said, I’m a goddamn hero.


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