Why I don't do dishes during the day...

****UPDATE****
Last night we watched The Last Crusade. I washed dishes at 11pm.



It's not like I even really DO dishes. I rinse them and load the dishwasher. Not a difficult task. At least not difficult under normal conditions. Normal meaning a home where there are not 3 children age 4 and under running around wanting to be close to their mother ALL DAY LONG.
Last night Lincoln and I watched Temple of Doom, in preparation for date night this Friday. That's right, we're going out just the two of us (and some friends) to see the new Indy movie. At 8:30 last night we still had 2 movies to make it through before then. Considering my husband falls asleep watching movies, sometimes within the first 20 minutes, time was drawing short for accomplishing this task in time. So after the kids were in bed I didn't even look in the direction of the dirty dishes in the sink, I just headed downstairs to watch the movie with Lincoln. They will still be there in the morning, I said, feeling wild and crazy, throwing caution to the wind.
We watched the movie, Lincoln stayed awake and we were still in bed by 10:45. Not bad.
As it turns out, I was right. The dishes were still in the sink this morning. I HATE waking up to a sink full of dirty dishes. It's just not a mess I can forgive when I've just been pulled from blissful slumber. But the worst part is this. It then became imperative that I wash them or I would have to look at them all day. And I would only be adding to them. So I couldn't wait until after the kids were in bed tonight like I usually do. So it went something like this.

Why don't you kids go downstairs and play for a while?

I don't want to play.

Yeah, I don't want to play.

Well it won't be any fun here. I'm just doing the dishes.

Mom! What is this thing on Captain Jack Sparrow's leg? (Devon has earned a seven inch Jack Sparrow action figure for pooping in the potty. He has not seen the movie so everything that follows is based on what he has deduced from the box and interrogating me).

It's a sash.

Mom! What's a sash?

It's kind of like a belt. Renie please don't stand on the dishwasher door, you'll break it.

Mom! Why does Captain Jack Sparrow need a selt?

A sash. Or belt. I guess so his pants don't fall off. Renie, I'm loading the dishwasher, not emptying. Put that back in.

Mom! What happens if Captain Jack Sparrow is naked on his ship?

I guess he would be embarrassed.

Mom! What's embarrassed?

Um, when you do something in front of people that makes you feel silly. Jesse and Renie, I mean it. Get off the dishwasher door.

Mom! Why does Captain Jones have a walking stick?

Because he has a peg leg and it it's hard to walk. Please get your toys out of the dishwasher.

Mom! Why does pirates have peg legs?

Because they lost their real leg somehow.

How Mom?

I don't know. Maybe a crocodile bit it off.

Mom! Why does crocodiles bite your legs off?

Renie and Jesse, put the silverware back in the dishwasher. And go get the cups you took and threw around the living room. I don't know Devon, because they were hungry, I guess.

(Welcome interruption by the cable guy.)

Mom! He has a ladder on his truck.

Yup, that's cool.

Why does he has a ladder on his truck?

In case he needs to reach something up high.

Mom! What kind of a truck is that?

Just a cable truck.

Mom! Why does he has cones?

He puts them in the street so people won't hit his truck.

Mom! What happens if someone hits his truck?

They would smash it.

Mom! Why does police put you in jail?

They just put you in jail if you break the law.

Mom! What's the law?

It's very important rules the government makes to keep us safe.

Mom! Where does polices live?

(Closing dishwasher) Ok, I'm closing this because you guys are making me crazy. Devon, police live in houses just like us. Our neighbor across the street is a policeman.

Mommy! There's a present in there!

Mom! What does polices wear?

Renie, take the present out. Jesse, keep your sippy cup out, we're not washing that right now. Devon they wear uniforms. I'm going to the bathroom. Do NOT come to the door. I need 5 minutes.


Seriously, this is not a made up or exaggerated story. Every single day all day is like this. Only it's interspersed with poopy diapers and the apparently immortal dog yelping in the back yard. It's a good thing I love my job-- and that I've developed the survival technique of tuning out my li'l darlins.