Cacophony

Cell phone ringing. Daddy's going to meet us at the pediatrician for an important appointment.

Spiderman in firetruck pajamas, a straw cowboy hat - a "real" one from Texas, with a big plastic red shovel. Over and over he loudly assures me that he is, "fine, okay, Mom." This is because he is running and "falling" a lot. Spiderman does this. The landings are loud in this million-year-old farmhouse over a million-year-old basement. The floor just can't take it.

Spidergirl is alternatingly chasing Spiderman or hiding from Spiderman. Chasing elicits squeals and giggles from Spiderman, hiding requires him to call out for her, wondering at the top of his high-pitched, two-year-old little voice where she could be. Spidergirl, by the way, has on a pink cowboy hat - also from Texas of course, and therefore "real."

Every two to three minutes, Spiderman does something unacceptable to Spidergirl and tattling presents itself to the Judge. That would be me. Ugh. Go away and stop annoying each other. Be perfect. Thank you.

All this is happening during piano practice for my more diligent child. At least for this morning, she wins the diligence award for doing anything-at-all productive. So the adventures of Spiderman and Spidergirl are happening to the tune of "Sunrise, Sunset" and practice scales. Over. And. Over. Just for three quarters of an hour.

Spiderbaby has been contained in the baby swing, which he is too big for. But he is determined to eat cat food. He must eat cat food, therefore he must be stopped. You would think cat food is chocolate. Maybe I should check that out. He's still making plenty of noise, though.

Now Spiderman and Spidergirl are loudly and laughingly getting married. Screeching, giggling, hugging. I wonder if this will help their relationship. I doubt it. Marriage is not a solution for people who have the comminucation problems that they do.

Cacophony. Sweet Cacophony.