This always happens.
My house is not at all like those you would see in 'Better Homes and Gardens'. Not even slightly.
Think more along the lines of 'Pygmy wars, where books, underwear and toy trains were the main projectiles'
The fact we both work, have little boys, and are a bit lax with any kind of really serious cleaning, means that the peanut butter DELIBERATELY hides from me when I need it.
Two nights ago, dragged myself home form work late, and made dinner for everyone. I served Boy and Duck first, left mine in the pan, The Daddy was at work.
Then, I went to do some other stuff before it got too late (read "before I got too tired to be arsed to do it), got in from bringing in the washing, pan is empty. Boy and Duck have served themselves seconds, and also eaten my ice-cream.
I was now tired, hungry and without the prospect of dessert. The Ice Cream Wars have continued here for some time. I say it's an after dinner food, if everyone has been good, and both homework and dinner are finished. The Daddy and The Boys seem to think Ice cream is a casual snack, and sometimes breakfast. I am outnumbered.
I hide it under the broccoli in the freezer. I have secreted it in a boxed marked 'Spinach Pies' and I even hid it surrounded by frozen carrots and corn. It still gets found. I am fond of Green Tea Haagen Daaz. It comes in teeny tiny little tubs. Costs a bomb. Any time you take your eyes either off The Boys or off the freezer, the crime of ice cream theft may have already been committed. They have been known to serve themselves ice cream in the middle of dinner, like a second course.
I said fuckit, I am having a banana and peanut butter sandwich for dinner then (and I would have put some chips on it, if there were any around as well). We have THREE peanut butters. The small smooth (bought because I had no money to go to Costco, but no peanut butter) the 3 kilo tub of smooth (because I got paid, we went to Costco) and the small crunchy, because Boy is aberrant (if I wanted crunchy peanut butter, I would just eat the peanuts. It's just wrong). ALL the peanut butters are lost to me in this tiny bloody apartment. It's essentially two rooms. One must contain a black hole, or the lost Kodaira corner of the Bermuda Triangle
I went berserk in the kitchen, and started ranting that it hides from me (I was REALLY hungry by this point) tearing the place apart, looking under my desk and bed (Duck sometimes goes under there with a jar and spoon).
Duck has been sent scurrying into the lounge to hide under the Kotatsu, Mummee is stomping, shouting and flinging her arms about in hunger and despair.
Boy has a head ache and a fever, and suddenly a stomach ache (too much dinner, fatty?? Hmmm?) but from his sick bed, he whispers "The little people took it. They went 'washoi washoi' because they haaaate you"
My house is not at all like those you would see in 'Better Homes and Gardens'. Not even slightly.
Think more along the lines of 'Pygmy wars, where books, underwear and toy trains were the main projectiles'
The fact we both work, have little boys, and are a bit lax with any kind of really serious cleaning, means that the peanut butter DELIBERATELY hides from me when I need it.
Two nights ago, dragged myself home form work late, and made dinner for everyone. I served Boy and Duck first, left mine in the pan, The Daddy was at work.
Then, I went to do some other stuff before it got too late (read "before I got too tired to be arsed to do it), got in from bringing in the washing, pan is empty. Boy and Duck have served themselves seconds, and also eaten my ice-cream.
I was now tired, hungry and without the prospect of dessert. The Ice Cream Wars have continued here for some time. I say it's an after dinner food, if everyone has been good, and both homework and dinner are finished. The Daddy and The Boys seem to think Ice cream is a casual snack, and sometimes breakfast. I am outnumbered.
I hide it under the broccoli in the freezer. I have secreted it in a boxed marked 'Spinach Pies' and I even hid it surrounded by frozen carrots and corn. It still gets found. I am fond of Green Tea Haagen Daaz. It comes in teeny tiny little tubs. Costs a bomb. Any time you take your eyes either off The Boys or off the freezer, the crime of ice cream theft may have already been committed. They have been known to serve themselves ice cream in the middle of dinner, like a second course.
I said fuckit, I am having a banana and peanut butter sandwich for dinner then (and I would have put some chips on it, if there were any around as well). We have THREE peanut butters. The small smooth (bought because I had no money to go to Costco, but no peanut butter) the 3 kilo tub of smooth (because I got paid, we went to Costco) and the small crunchy, because Boy is aberrant (if I wanted crunchy peanut butter, I would just eat the peanuts. It's just wrong). ALL the peanut butters are lost to me in this tiny bloody apartment. It's essentially two rooms. One must contain a black hole, or the lost Kodaira corner of the Bermuda Triangle
I went berserk in the kitchen, and started ranting that it hides from me (I was REALLY hungry by this point) tearing the place apart, looking under my desk and bed (Duck sometimes goes under there with a jar and spoon).
Duck has been sent scurrying into the lounge to hide under the Kotatsu, Mummee is stomping, shouting and flinging her arms about in hunger and despair.
Boy has a head ache and a fever, and suddenly a stomach ache (too much dinner, fatty?? Hmmm?) but from his sick bed, he whispers "The little people took it. They went 'washoi washoi' because they haaaate you"
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