Yesterday, I made approximately 4-dozen banana muffins.
Today, they are gone. I ate two of them. Charlie had a half of one.
Since the kids appetites returned on Monday, off the top of my head - they have consumed over a gallon of orange juice ... two pineapples ... a loaf of bread ... a box of Wheat Thins ... 45.5 banana muffins ... french toast, bacon, waffles ... three ears of corn ... six peanut butter and jelly sandwiches ... a half a chicken ... three grilled cheese sandwiches ... and a 12-inch pizza.
When we went to feed the ducks yesterday, the kids ate the majority of - what I thought were - stale croissants. Usually, when I give the kids food to throw to the ducks - they throw it. Yesterday, they couldn't shovel it in to their mouths fast enough.
I could have sworn the ducks were giving our ravenousness children dirty looks.
Normally, I limit the amount of ice cream our kids eat. But, because they lost so much weight last week, I've been giving them second and third helpings at night, without blinking.
I'm not entirely sure, but I think they love me for it.
But, that light at the end of the tunnel? It was an oncoming train.
I KNEW IT.
Charlie was feeling better and finally able to stumble out of bed yesterday, just in time to turn off the water supply to our 40-gallon water heater that sprung a leak all over our garage - but not before it damaged a large portion of drywall.
Forty gallons of water. In our garage.
Thank heavens the water heater didn't decide to fail on us last week - when we had an average of seven loads of laundry each and every day to wash along with three vomit covered children and two vomit covered parents to bathe, each and every night.
This experience has convinced me: Somewhere in my youth or childhood - I must have done something good.
This morning, while I was preparing a 12-egg omelet for our children's breakfast ... our childproof cabinet door - that holds dangerous and expensive appliances (and several bags of flour) - fell completely off the hinges. While I stared in horror wondering how I was going to keep the kids OUT of said formerly childproof cabinet full of dangerous and expensive appliances (and several bags of flour) ... the children began laughing at their good fortune.
Not only did they have a garage full of water that they could stomp around in ... they had a cabinet, previously off limits, that they were going to ambush at their earliest opportunity.
I could tell they were thinking: Somewhere in my fetal stage or infancy - I must have done something good.
Tonight, as soon as I finish watching
Calgon ... take me away.
It's a good thing Charlie and I have been able to
Too bad this was just a joke.