For those of you following along on this wacky life journey of mine you know that it’s pretty obvious that here at the Morgan house we are a long way from perfect. We also might be, just a tiny bit, a little nutso. Here are just a few glimpses into our life this last week:
First, we still have not remedied the cooking situation around here. I’m seriously at a loss. Even if I do cook, which is getting more and more rare, nobody eats it. I made dinner the other day and came down to find a certain son (who shall remain nameless) eating the following–I am not making this up: A giant bag of Ruffles potato chips, a stack of oreos and, wait for it, goldfish. All chased down by a Mountain Dew. What??? I know what you’re thinking–don’t buy that stuff. Easier said than done. I just really, really like Oreos…
Second, in a giant push to purge my home of all things not useful I organized every nook and cranny and consequently can’t find anything anymore. I think my scattered system was actually easier. I spent two hour–TWO HOURS–looking for the stuff to clean the fish bowl with because I feared Kennedy’s wrath if I didn’t find it by the 15th. That’s her regularly scheduled day for cleaning the bowl. Whose kid is that???
Third, one of my sons has a phobia which was highlighted by this phrase yelled down the stairs at me tonight: “Mom!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I need you to come up here and kill a spider for me! ” Now, keep in mind that I am only left with teenage sons at this house anymore so…it’s a problem. Because I’m a big believer in facing our fears I made that son man up and suck up that thing with a vacuum. It was quite the event. Tomorrow night we are moving on to his fear of people touching him and clowns. Anybody know where I can score a lot of touchy, feely clowns on short notice???
Fourth–the Morgan’s like a lot of potty humor. Like every meal involves some sort of bodily sound/fluid discussion. And it’s not limited to meals either because sometimes it sneaks into our scripture study as well. We should be ashamed.
Yep–we’re wack jobs around here. I’ve got teenage boys single handedly bringing croc shoes back in fashion, a missionary son who likes to scare the daylights out of his poor unsuspecting companion and a daughter who I’m pretty sure is more responsible than me. And she’s 11. And I kind of love it:-)
Kristyn Morgan 