(I still haven’t figured out how to fix my screwed-up page layout.  So I’m going to do the mature thing and ignore it and hope it goes away.  Carry on.)

Children are a never-ending source of a fresh world-view, aren’t they?  I mean, they just come up with stuff that some of us stuffy old adults would never even think of.  Say you were… oh… I don’t know… say you were perhaps not feeling in top form for weeks on end a few days.  Or that you’d been charged for two TVs–neither of which worked–and found yourself spending all of your spare time on the phone with a large electronics conglomerate trying to convince them to stop stealing your money and, I don’t know, maybe fix their error and give you the TV you thought you were buying.  Should you find yourself in one of these situations (or a similar one), do not be alarmed when your offspring find some creative ways to pass the time while you are sleeping otherwise occupied.

My home is just bursting with new games that I know are going to be all the rage very soon.  And because I love to share the joy, here are some soon-to-be-favorites for which you should all be on the lookout:

• Land mines:  In this game, one small child takes an entire deck of Go Fish cards (the type is unimportant, although the Thomas the Tank cards work well) and strategically places them all over the floors of the house.  Be sure to put at least one card on every stair.  When someone steps on a card, everyone yells “BOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!” loudly enough to be heard in Australia.
• Emergency:  A game of skill and cunning, this one requires uncanny timing and healthy lungs.  The object is to appear to be playing quietly until any adults in the vicinity have lost interest; then, one child begins shrieking about an alleged injury at a pitch capable of breaking glass.  By the time the resident adult has come tearing to the scene, all children should be loading the “injured party” (usually a Polly Pocket) into the toy ambulance.
• Pool Party:  If you have anything that can hold water, you can have a pool party.  Extra points for carrying your chosen receptacle out of the bathroom and leaving a river of evidence on your way back to the playroom.  Extra special bonus points for later daring to complain about whatever toy you ruined by putting it in the water!
• Tornado:  When nothing else seems entertaining, just take out everything.  Go ahead, take it all out!  Scatter it to the four corners of the room, or–better yet–across the entire house.  When directed to clean up, plead fatigue.
• Covert Art:  Sure, you’re old enough to know what you can and can’t draw on, and what you’re allowed to use scissors for and what you’re not… but that’s all part of the fun!  Go ahead and use that green crayon on your sister’s school forms!  Sure, cut up your little brother’s prize art project!  He won’t mind!  Or maybe he will, and that makes it even more fun!
• School For The Wicked:  Take great care in dressing all of your dollies–all 472 of them–for school.  Line them up and begin addressing them as their mother.  Be sure to mimic every obnoxious thing your mother has ever said to you, including any swear words you may have overheard her saying on a bad day.  Make the dollies cry.
• Bedding Romp:  This game can’t be played as often as the others, but it’s loads of fun on days you can manage it.  Wait patiently for the one day out of twelve when your mother actually manages to make all the beds in the morning.  Then, don’t just play in your bed, make it look like you had a grand mal seizure in the thing.  Be sure to hide your pillow after ripping up all the sheets!

You’re very welcome for sharing.  No need to thank me.

We just loooooove Vacation Bible School, around here.  Love it!  It involves staying up late for a week straight (as our church elects to hold it in the evening so that even those who work can participate), good snacks, and someone dressed up as a big cartoon character.  This year’s curriculum involves a gigantic dog.  Really, what’s not to like?
 
Back before my surgery, I signed up to work during VBS.  Then I sort of neglected to inform all the Powers That Be that I wasn’t feeling so hot.  So tonight I showed up to discover that yes, I was still fully expected to do several hours of kitchen duty every night.  Ohboy.  It wasn’t so bad.  We made popcorn tonight so mostly I just stuffed popcorn into little bags.  And it was so hot in the kitchen (with several pots of popcorn going at a time) that when I saw someone pouring a cold drink from the fridge I asked for one, too, without asking what it was.
 
It was Pepsi.  Full strength, all-the-sugar-and-caffeine Pepsi.  Guess whose migraine is gone (for the moment)?  *cue the cherubim singing the Hallelujah Chorus*
 
Now the kids, they get to have some real fun.  First everyone gathers in the sanctuary for singing and such, then the different age groups split out to the various “stations” for different activities.  Monkey happily slid in with the 3-and-4-year-old group and made friends with the closest child and was happy as a clam.  Meanwhile, I’m standing in the back having an important discussion with the other kitchen staffers about whether or not we have enough cups, and Chickadee was running back and forth between her class and me, wanting “hugs” and “another hug” and “maybe I could just hang here with you” and “my sensors have detected that your attention has shifted away from me for a minute and that must be rectified.”  Yeah.  So I slipped away down to the kitchen as soon as possible.
 
I only got to see the kids when they came to the station near the kitchen, of course, but I was able to witness a few choice tidbits:
–Monkey sitting backwards during the puppet show for a full two minutes or so, and not understanding what everyone else was laughing about (um, son? didja hit your head?)
–Monkey finding an unravelling thread on his carpet square and commencing trying to pull the entire thing apart
–Chickadee reading the bible verse on the placard VERY LOUDLY ahead of the teacher leading the group (see, I really can’t win… he does dumb things and she does smart things and either way I’m left wishing I was elsewhere)
–Chickadee picking Monkey up against his will and carrying him into the kitchen to see me (where they both got sent back out; surprise!)
 
Later I was informed–by a pair of teachers who could not control their laughter during the retelling–that Monkey latched himself onto one of their legs during a game, and had to be removed bodily after some failed negotiation.  I was mortified.  No, no, they assured me… it was funny, it’s okay.  He was enjoying himself.  Um, okay.  More money in the therapy fund.
 
We got through the evening, and returned home well after bedtime.  For me, it’s all worth it because they’re exhausted and actually go right to sleep.  But I’m guessing I won’t be so patient if Chickadee is still clinging to me at the end of the week… nor will the teachers likely find it quite as amusing if Monkey is velcroing himself to them every night.  We shall see what the week brings.