Yeah, when I say “tomorrow” you can pretty much imply that that means “sometime next week”. My official excuse is that the twins turned 4 on the 13th and it was a Joe Biden Moment (A Big Fucking Deal!). I am still recovering. And cleaning frosting out of my Jeep. Good times.
So, the last child of mine I present for the approval of the Midnight Society is Cereal Killer.
Cereal Killer is a sweet, loving 4 year old. He is very mechanically inclined. I’ve never seen a little dude son interested or skilled at taking shit apart. (That’s why we have no remote controls in our house.) He also loves cars, playing in the snow, and carrying a purse. (Quit judging. He can carry a purse if he wants.)
Oh, and he speaks in the “REDRUM”-kid-from-The-Shining voice ALL THE TIME.
I recently met with his teachers and one of them nervously asked where that voice comes from. Well, he’s never seen The Shining so, I am going to have to go ahead and assume he is possessed and is just biding his time until he is strong enough to kill us all in our sleep. You know. Whatever.
It makes life more exciting. Nothing makes you shit your pants like a 4 year old standing three inches from your face in the middle of the night, asking to sleep with you in That Voice. (I always let him crawl in the covers. My husband thinks I am spoiling him, I think I am just ensuring that when the demon in him is released, it may treat me with some kindness before it eats my soul.)
No, I kid. He’s not possessed. He’s been sprinkled with holy water in church and he only screams in pain a little bit so, he’s totally not possessed. But, woe unto the person who turns off Cars before he is done watching it (for the 2,385,729,375th time). They will incur the Wrath of Cereal Killer.