Rational Siblings

maleficent Getting an army of minions does not mean one will have efficient means to perform villainy. Frex, I have often dreamed of minions doing my laundry. Perhaps I am a trifle pessimistic, as the only times I let other people do my laundry have resulted in shocking catastrophes. Granted, the endgame for said people was me never asking them to do laundry again, so the catastrophe is sort of inevitable now that I look back upon it.

I have also dreamed of minions hoovering, or doing the dishes. Loading and unloading the dishwasher has been turned over to the Princess, who wanted the job with the fiery wanting of a thousand suns. (Both the kids actually ask for chores. It’s…pleasant, but it makes me a little nervous sometimes.) I gave birth to her, so she doesn’t actually qualify as a minion, right? Of course, there are stories of spawned minions being rather effective, but it always seemed to me a really labor-intensive way to go about gathering a dark army of utterly devoted fanatics. Not to mention a path full of back-aches and sleepless nights.

…these are things I think about. Especially when I come across Spider Queens in video games.

Yesterday the kids were home from school, and the Little Prince was determined to learn cookie-making. He produced extremely delicious oatmeal cookies. He can now run the mixer and is getting over some (perfectly natural) fear of the oven. I remember being terrified of the oven too, but I didn’t have anyone to coach or reassure me. There were even days I was afraid to turn it on because I thought it quite possible my mother would shove me into it, performing a Grimm cautionary tale and ridding herself of the mistake I represented all at once. But the Prince had the Princess as a coach, and they didn’t even fight once over the cookie process. They saved it for later in the day, when I couldn’t hear them, like the rational siblings they are.

No oatmeal cookies survived–a high testament to his craftsmanship and the Princess’s coaching ability. Related: my lunch yesterday was nothing but cookie dough, cookies, and a lone stick of string cheese in a vain attempt to be healthy.

I managed to get all the crocus bulbs in the ground yesterday, too. Plus some of the half-eaten daffodil bulbs the squirrels left on the deck as a challenge. Motherfuckers don’t even eat the bulbs, they just nibble them and leave them as a fuck-you-biped-we’re-squirrels. I even saw one of the little bastards carrying a mangled bulb, and I swear she was drawing back to chuck it at the French door before my swift movement (a instinctive downward glance to make sure I was wearing shoes) made her drop the thing and retreat.

I swear I will never give one of those fur-bearing assholes a proper burial EVER again.

Oh, and tinyBATMAN now has a round-the-clock nurse. I should tell you guys that story, but not today. I have to get out and run off all those delicious, delicious oatmeal cookies.

Over and out.