Seven lovely children.
And after today I don't think I shall be able to eat M&Ms without laughing and crying at the same time. Math and mothers can tell you that when you have a large enough group of children-one or two of them will emerge as the "odd" ones. In groups of three or less-the "odd" one may manifest as a little girl that is an overly dramatic starlet...or a boy who still sucks his thumb and plays football in the seventh grade.
But in groups of seven +...weird has to be really weird to get proper attention, otherwise you're lost in the shuffle of arms, legs, and other kids' boogers. Well my friends-my seven children can do weird, strange, eccentric, and hilarious with their little fingers. Today was no exception.
Today it was raining...and not the light friendly spring rain that I can justify kicking them out in for thirty minutes while I glue my hair back to my head...this was the nasty-can't-go-out-therefore-must-go-crazy-inside kind of rain. So I turned to every nanny's nightmare. Give them whatever toy they want to keep peace in a room that is 11x15. Yaay.
First it was dominoes. But they began to use those as replacement cartridges in the nerf weapons and it was starting to leave marks on the walls and various siblings.
Second we tried army guys and the dollhouse. But the army guys led a pretty ambitious charge on the dollhouse and the girls beat them senseless. I had to put one boy on top of the bookcase for safekeeping...the two year old was out for blood and he was wearing shorts.
Finally-in desperation, I raided the attic. I struck gold with a chest of old dress up clothes. Now this family buys a lot of stuff (groceries, tp, etc...) in bulk. Dress up clothes were no exception. Their mom had a habit of clearing Party City out when the Halloween costumes went on super duper clearance. Which will explain the seven M&M costumes. They were stuffed amongst other treasures...Seven brightly colored representatives of rainbowed chocolately goodness. This was going to be fun.
The hardest part was talking the 11 year old into one of them for the picture session. I wanted him to be red because I was trying to get them to pose in rainbow color order. No dice. He wanted brown because it looked less like "dork candy" and more like a "stinky poo pile"...which is somehow more preferred in the realm of almost adolescent boys. I wrestled them all in the foam circles of wonder...and began snapping pictures. Beth learned that even though it was a candy costume it did not taste like candy. She lost interest and went back to remodeling the dollhouse. Soon one by one they abandoned their M&Ms to fish out more flashy or robust pieces from the costume trunk-letting their bright colored shells fall by the wayside.
All of them accept for Ethan. He preferred to simply accessorize the M&M. He was Bright Orange. And soon he was bright orange with a pink princess hat-complete with veil, pink boa, and red power ranger gloves. He looked like an M&M in drag. I nearly hit the floor dying of laughter. On my way back to the kitchen to get my inhaler, I passed his father in the hall-without thinking-I pointed to the den, and kept staggering and laughing my way down the hall.
[now as a side note: the children's father is a conservative, religious, republican-with little to no sense of humor where boys and pink are concerned. Having said that-he is a good father and he loves his children-but in this house-boys play with boy toys and girls play with whatever they want.]
His father did not find the M&M drag queen very funny and promptly told Ethan to stop playing with his sisters' things. Ethan quietly began to disrobe. He fished out a black X-man suit complete with fake muscles. He looked quite handsome. A little while later I glanced up from the kitchen island counter where I was preparing lunch to see a much more "manly" Ethan come into the kitchen. He cruised around the island followed by a clicking noise. I thought it must be some sort of manly weapon accessory. No such luck. He had quietly accessorized with the pink lucite heels-complete with feather toes. He got about halfway round the kitchen before his father noticed the clicky clacking wasn't from a sword. Firmly he was told to lose his sister's heels. With a seemingly blank expression he merely shrugged at his father, flashed me a grin Cher would have been proud of-then raced off in the direction of the den....tiny pink glitter fairy wings were strapped to the bulging back muscles of the black super hero suit.
Rock on boy wonder-rock on.
