A Handful of Destruction

B.B. had a WIC appointment this morning. I decided to get half the shopping done prior to our appointment so we headed into Wal-Mart. I figured I could save a little time by getting the non- refrigerated items first and coming back after the cold stuff after WIC (which can take anywhere from 15-90 minutes).


During the initial trip, B.B. found a giant, striped, bouncy ball that he needed (in the way only small children can need something). As it was only 88 cents and was keeping him happily occupied in the cart, I decided to spring for it (not something I normally do). On our return trip, I figured I'd better pick up one for BabyGirl and one for #1 Son as well or there would be serious consequences when they discovered their brother's loot. $2.64 later, I thought I had done something fabulous. I must have been suffering from pregnancy amnesia.

These are the little bouncy balls that have been living on top of my fridge for no less than 6 months. Why? Because they are tiny packages of chaos and destruction. A handful of evil. They bounce randomly across the linoleum lodging themselves under appliances, landing in a sink of dirty dishes, ricocheting off little foreheads, and wreaking havoc on my normally peaceful (ha)household.

So what do I do? I go out and buy the Sams Club version of them. Three times the size, three times the bounce, three times the evil. I now face the prospect of confiscating the new spheres of death and housing them atop the fridge until summer when they can be banished to dry rot in the yard. The only problem with that idea is that we have no pavement or concrete to bounce them off. Just grass, mud, and gravel as far as the eye can see. That means they are likely to remain hidden in the grass until Husband shoots one out the deck of the riding mower and shatters my French doors. That is something to look forward to, isn't it?

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In non-projectile news, I posted on Nudge-Nudge today.