Category Archives: Whiteboard Wednesday

Twins, The Tooth Fairy, and Confused Parents

With my twins in Grade 2, I didn’t think there was much that could surprise me. In the seven years they’ve been alive, they’ve carved their names into the side of our minivan, put a garden hose down the basement vent (and turned on the water), and shoplifted from two different stores.

But just like Snooki on her SAT, I was mistaken. It turns out that Vivian and William can still surprise me plenty.

On Sunday night, I was baking cookies for the homeless, something that made me feel slightly good about myself until I realized I’d consumed so much dough that the homeless might now also be cookieless.

Vivian and William were supposed to be getting ready for bed upstairs. My dough-munching was interrupted by Vivian yelling. “Mom!” she said. “William just pulled out my tooth. And it wasn’t even very loose!”

Like all veteran parents, I ignored her. Not only has she become quite the joker, but she also had no loose teeth.

“Mom!” she repeated. “I’m serious. I lost a tooth.”

I heard her gallop down the stairs.

I dropped the handful of chocolate chips – that were en route to my mouth – into the bowl.

“Let’s see,” I said.

She showed me her little pearly tooth and bloody grin.

Then I said this:

She smiled and nodded.

I looked at her.

“Well–” she hesitated.

I raised my eyebrows.

“A stuffy may have been involved,” she continued.

“A stuffy? As in a stuffed animal?”

“I had a stuffy in my mouth.”

“In your mouth?” This story was sounding more plausible. I’m not being sarcastic.

“Yes,” she said. “I don’t know how it got there, but it did.”

“You don’t know how it got there?”

“Not really,” Viv said. “But we were playing a game, and William pulled on it and my tooth came out.”

“Okay then,” I said. In the seven years they’ve been alive, I’ve learned it’s often better to stop asking questions.

*

Bedtime came, as did sleep for Will and Viv.

“Go look at the note,” my husband said when I finally shut my laptop and entered our bedroom.

“What note?” I asked.

“The note Vivi left for the tooth fairy.”

So I channeled my inner ninja, crept into their room, and read this:

And so the tooth fairy left the tooth. Just so I can vacuum it up next year.

*

What has surprised you in your household lately?
Have you said or heard any bizarre things?

How To Drive Your Parents To Drink

When I tweeted this, I likely should’ve shut my computer.

To be fair, the ball wasn’t exactly a volleyball. It was a globe. An inflatable one.

Vivian and William were using the sofa that divides the kitchen from the living room as a net. And they were spiking.

Meanwhile, I was drinking club soda from a stemmed glass, trying to convince myself that my drink had the alcohol content of Everclear. Or at least Bud Light.

The serves and spikes continued, with the globe ricocheting around our house like a pinball trying to flee a 1980s arcade game.

After one of William’s wild serves, the ball skidded across our kitchen island, taking 1990s relics – CDs and newspapers – with it.

“Enough!” I said.

My discipline was greeted by giggles, contagious ones.

I grabbed the ball, zinged it down the stairwell into the basement, and slammed the door.

More giggles. William tried to wedge me away from the basement door.

Vivian’s eyes grew bigger as did her smile. “Come here, Will,” she said. “I have a plan.”

William went to her, and she whispered things in his ear.

And that was how I came to find myself staking out my basement door while a Mini-Pops version of the CIA met in my kitchen.

With a grin on his face, William swaggered back to me, leaned against the wall, and waited.

I heard the fridge door open.

“Mom…” Vivian said with a singsong lilt. “I’m eating the rest of the cheese sticks.”

I eyed the cluster of processed plastic in her hand and said:

“Dinner’s in ten minutes.” I added, before wedging my hip further into the basement door.

“I’m going to eat them all, Mom,” she said, “unless you come get me.”

Vivian held all five cheese sticks up and pranced a bit. Then she peeled the plastic skin off one and bit into it.

Okay, I thought, I’ll play.

“Give those to me!” I lunged at her, grabbed four cheese sticks, and heard William stomp down the basement door to retrieve the inflatable ball.

What ensued was an impromptu game, a cross between Chase Me and Keep Away. From afar, it may have resembled a rugby match in a small space with breakable items, like stemware and the bones of a 40-year-old woman.

Finally, the oven buzzer rang.

“Game over!” I yelled. “Out of the kitchen. Please.”

Vivian and William knew the final whistle when they heard it. They shuffled to the living room.

I sipped my soda water and rescued the animal-formerly-known-as chicken from the oven.

That’s when I heard William say this: “Viv? Can you help me find something I can slingshot?”

Send a six pack, please.

*

What has nearly driven you to drink recently?

What Happens When You Don’t Think Before You Speak

It’s dinner time. Vivian, a.k.a Princess Squirm-a-lot, is doing her pommel horse routine on her chair.

She hoofs me mid-performance, plops down facing me, and grins, all while chewing her burger.

I return her smile.

“Stop sitting sidesaddle,” I say.

Vivian looks down at her legs and back at me. “Mary sat sidesaddle.”

I scan the address book in my brain, searching for a woman named Mary who rode a horse.

Donkey. Manger. Virgin. Got it.

Then, without thinking, I say this:


Vivian shifts ninety degrees and asks for another glass of milk.

William, oblivious to the previous interaction, graciously reroutes the conversation when he tells us how fast a Peregrine Falcon flies when it swoops down on its prey.

*

It’s Whiteboard Wednesday, so I ask:

What bizarre things have you heard or said recently?