I overheard George and Goldie have the following exchange tonight while brushing their teeth:
Goldie: "This is the grossest thing ever in the world."
George: "How do you know? You haven't seen everything in the world."
Goldie: "Yes I have. I've seen Hawaii. I've seen Africa. I've seen Aladdin." And later she has the nerve to ask me: Goldie: "Have you ever done dishes before?" And I heard the following helpful suggestion the other day about George: Milo: "How about we give him away to another little boy who doesn't have a brother." I'd consider giving one or two of them away, but then I wouldn't have any quotable quotes for my blog.
Yesterday was a Milo and Mama day, a day when mama's not baking and Milo's not at school and we do something special together. Milo played quietly while I cleaned the kitchen. Okay, the truth is I surfed the Internet while Milo dumped all the Playmobil toys on the floor. All 750 pieces. And then he dumped all of Goldie's doll clothes, 430 outfits.
Whenever he's too quiet I need to check on him. I know this.
Following Clay's "trust but verify" motto, I found Milo in Goldie's room. He was trying to put on earrings. The sticker kind. In his ear. I repeat, in his ear.
He managed to shove one so far in his ear canal that he complained that it hurt.
Darn. Darn. Darn. I laid him on my bed and looked into his ear and barely saw a twinkly sticky earringy thing.
I called my neighbor, who happens to be an ENT (ear, nose and throat doctor) and she told me I have to bring him in.
And when I asked, in my most doctorly voice, if I could simply put some super glue on a Q-tip and stick it in his ear and get the thing out myself, she ignored me. "It will save all of us time," she said.
Fine! I was not happy about driving to the Eastside all for the sake of stupid earlobe sticker. What kind of person doesn't know not to stick things in their ear?
But then I remembered the day my brother Ken and I stuck beads up our noses. (His idea.) I swear they'd still be up there if my mom didn't notice BOTH of us were making strange whistling noises while we breathed and ate Spaghetti O's.
She called my dad, who happens to be a jeweler. He came home and stuck long narrow diamond tweezers up our noses and removed the beads himself.
So, being the good mom I am, I put crying Milo into the car and gave him a pack of sugarless gum and let him eat the whole thing. (By the way, this is a trick I learned from my friend Margot, who also has three kids. You're only allowed to do this sort of negligent thing if you have three or more kids.)
Milo only cried for a second while my friend fished around in his brain, I mean ear, and pulled out the offending object.
After "surgery" she rewarded our bad behavior, (notice how I take some blame here and say our bad behavior), and let Milo pick a toy from the prize box in the reception area.
So we all know what part two is going to be about don't we? Milo is going to want more gum and toys, so he's most likely going to keep sticking more crap in his ears and nose.