Food Coma: 1, Parents: 0

We returned back home after a Sunday brunch of pancakes. The Husband and I immediately plopped ourselves down on the couch, sinking slowly into a carbo-load coma while Elise and Luke ran around in way-too-energetic circles apparently immune to the IHOP drugging.

We were…getting…so…sleepy.

Isn’t it great they’re old enough to play with themselves, I murmured to The Husband as I glanced his way with closing eyelids. His eyes were already closed, clutching a couch pillow to his chest like a flotation device.  (This NEVER happens. At least not to the two of us at the same time. We usually prefer to keep  our wits about us when we’re dealing with the insurgents.)

My involuntary slumber was interrupted at various points with Elise and Luke coming to report something or the other. Then I’d hear the Husband say, “Shhh! Go play and don’t bother Mommy!” quickly followed by his snoring.

I may have dreamed of Elise saying, “Spit that out, Luke! Spit it out!” and “Do you want to die? No? Then stop doing that.” Instead of waking up alarmed, I apparently just rolled over and worked on evening out my cheek couch burn.

The next thing I knew, it had been AN ENTIRE HOUR that we slept while our 5- and 2-year old “entertained themselves.”

While it was FABULOUS to have had an hour of sleep in the middle of the day, I was also terrified about what I might find after our Lord of the Flies experiment.

After I verified that both children were present and all appendages accounted for, I got up and surveyed the damage as if inspecting a crime scene.

I found the following clues:

High chair moved to middle of dining room.

Playdoh opened, molested, taken hostage somewhere outside of its cup-home.

Crayons savagely broken in half and left to die under the kitchen table.

Kids’ chairs moved to odd configuration by the ride-on toys.(For what devious purpose, pray tell?)

One Barbie slipper found on top of the air vent. Suspicious. Signs of struggle.

Remnants of Fruity Pebbles on the floor. (Admittedly, this was probably from the day before. What? )

All in all, it wasn’t that bad. No one got hurt. The cat was still alive. And, really, I never trusted that Barbie anyway. I posted a reward for her return but she may have taken one for the food coma team, as it were.


About Kate

Kate is mother to three exceptionally strong and solid offspring, "Elise" (b. 2005),"Luke" (b.2008), and "Emile" (b. 2011), who have successfully put her spine one hoist away from disc herniation. She lives in the Washington DC area and works in healthcare—which is convenient given the physical hazards of her mommy gig. Kate is deathly afraid of developing large nose pores and is very suspicious of squirrels. She hopes she will never, ever need to face these two fears simultaneously. She is a huge fan of eating, sleeping, and taking private showers. Kate yearns for the day when she will not have to follow any dependent being into the bathroom for quality control. She is also known for saying, "There's nothing that makes you feel like more of a tool than writing about yourself in third person."

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