Nothing to See Here…

When I was five years old, I noticed a can of spray stuff sitting on the top of the sliding board as I was walking through our backyard.  I couldn’t read, so I didn’t know what the can said, but what five year old can resist spray stuff, right?  I picked it up and I sprayed the ants on the sidewalk. 

They died.

I thought “Wow, this stuff must be for killing ants!” and I proceeded to spray and kill all the ants I possibly could until the can was empty and nothing would come out.  Who knew I was into pesticide but there I was trying to wipe out the whole ant population.  Once I used all the spray, I set the empty can back on the slide and went to ride my bike. 

It wasn’t long after that when I heard my dad’s angry voice calling for me in the neighborhood.  Ends up, he wanted to know if I was the one who used all his truck-cleaner spray on the sidewalk.  I told him no, of course not, I only used that ant-killing spray. 

He wasn’t amused (which wasn’t surprising, because I wasn’t trying to be amusing - I was sincere as could be.)  I got in big trouble for that.  The lesson was…  well, surely there was a lesson in there, right?  The lesson was hide the evidence, maybe.  Or, perhaps, just because something kills ants doesn’t mean it’s ant killer.  Probably the biggest lesson I learned that day was avoid getting Dad angry at all costs. 

I now have a three year old who thinks everything is a can of spray ant-killer, metaphorically speaking.  Of course, this child is Dennis the Menace with long blond curls and purdy eye lashes.  She looks innocent, but she’s up to no good I’m tellin’ ya.  I know I’ve posted about her antics before, but here are some recent additions:  she tried to flush her pink polka-dotted dress down the toilet; she dumped out an entire box of Special-K Chocolaty Delight cereal on the dining room table just to pick out all the little pieces of chocolate and eat them, she used the dog as her patient in a pretend game of Dentist and shoved toys in the poor pooch’s mouth.  Do not turn your back on her.

I’m sure if there was a can of spray stuff on the sliding board, she would have killed every ant in sight.  I’m sure of it.

As it happens, there was no can of spray stuff on the sliding board.  But there was a pretty little bottle of Passion Potion on the headboard of my bed. 

See, on Friday night, I went to one of those passion parties where a cute chick with perky boobs shows you all sorts of naughty things that are meant to make you feel really insecure about your sexual prowess so you’ll spend all your money on their products to try to achieve some ideal level of sexual nirvana that really doesn’t exist in real life.  I spent $166.87.  That’s how messed up my sex life is.  I can’t wait until my Nipple Nibblers comes in the mail - I ordered the pina colada ones.  One of the things I bought and carried home with me was a little bottle of this stuff called Passion Potion or something like that.  It’s meant to, you know, prepare the battlefield for the General’s visit.  You know what I mean, right?  This stuff is $40 and quite frankly, I was thinking it should scrub my toilets clean for that much, but I suppose if it makes my girly bits all tingly, that will be enough.

It was sitting on the headboard of my bed.  Now, the little girls in the house occasionally spent time in the Big Bed reading or cuddling with us and they have occasionally noticed a bottle of something or other on the headboard.  Jadie might say “I can read now, Mommy.  That stuff is K-Y je je jel…  What does that spell?”  To which I reply “Medicine, honey, that spells COD LIVER OIL.  Let’s just put that away.  No, no - don’t taste it!  Why on earth do you refuse to taste anything at the dinner table but you don’t hesitate to taste things not meant for your mouth?  Explain that to me.” 

Oh, wait, sorry for that little tangent.

Anyway. 

We’ve been busted before, scrambled to put something away.  I can deal with that - with being confronted like that.  I can lie and cover, I can use sleight of hand, redirect attention, hide things away.  I learned that in Parenting 101.

What is harder to deal with is having your devilish three year old sneak into your room when you’re not there and using your $40.00 bottle of Passion Potion to clean your mirrors.  The mirrors are sparkly, and I expect a bit tingly too.

I wonder if it kills ants?  At least they would die a happy death.