So Sorry...My Kids Are To Blame

Sure, you just thought Mother Nature had a beef against you, fellow Dallasites. Or that Chione* had your number. Or that you had done something bad, REALLY REALLY bad, to cause your children to be within the four walls of your house for six consecutive days with no means of escape and no hope for sanity.

And, then to be cooped up yet another day, like a laying-hen with no chance of seeing cage-free in her lifetime. And, with potentially another day added, just for good measure.

Sorry to tell you, but no matter how bad you've been? You aren't to blame.

My boys are. It turns out, THEY are the ones who did the Snow Dance.

Yes, you read that right. Never heard of it? Neither had I, until I saw the beast in full-color, rapid motion, "You're doing WHAT?" glory.

It's a simple dance, really. It doesn't take Billy Elliott skills to master. In fact, a two-year-old could do it, given a couple of seconds of free time.

It requires a. one set of pajama pants, turned inside out and worn on the body, b. several ice cubes and c. one toilet.

Yes. The piss pot. The royal throne. The thunder-box.**

And, yes (again). It is a very strange combo. Kind of like a peanut-butter-and-fried-bologna sandwich.

The formula is easy: wrong-side-out-pajama-clad-person must grab as many ice cubes as possible from the ice box. Key point: must be barehanded. Have no idea why. Said person must walk/run to the bathroom and deposit icy creations in the loo.

THEN, our lucky contestant must flush the toilet and recreate the motion of the spinning water by turning around and around and around. And, hopefully, not render themselves so dizzy that they split their head falling to the ground. Or onto the hard, porcelin lavvy.

This craziness must have been executed, talked about, or thought through at least five bazillion times in this house last week. And, WAHLAH! It worked.

So, on Thursday or Friday? When the four walls are closing in and you've run out of patience and have rendered yourself bald from pulling your hair out after being asked over and over and over again "What is there to do? I'm BORED."

Don't call me. I've already fessed up. And, I won't answer.


*Greek goddess of snow and ice. Amazing what a little Goggle search can turn up, isn't it?

**I just find all the alternate words for "toilet" hysterically amusing. Speaks to my sense of humor.