I MAY have mentioned that I enjoy scaring my husband for kicks. WELL, he LOVES to get me back. (Unfortunately for him, I get him at least 5 times as much as he succeeds in getting me).
I’ve been due for one for a while. Especially after I got him the other night.
I was reading to Starling out of Nicholeen Peck’s book, “A House United.” It’s a parenting book that teaches parents how to self govern themselves and teach self governing skills to their children. ANYWAY- Starling started yawning and declared his self exhausted. So I started turning out lights and made my way toward the bedroom. Starling had some EFY music floating out of the computer. (It’s essentially soft church music). He was sprawled on the couch half-awake, half-asleep listening to it. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, removed my contacts, etc. and Starling STILL wasn’t in our bedroom. Starling was dragging. Sooo I couldn’t miss an opportunity to lift his heart rate. I turned off our bedroom light and, LEAVING the bedroom, closed the door. I waited in the hallway by the kids’ bedrooms in a monstrous pounce position. And I waited. AND I WAITED. Just when I thought Starling was going to start snoring from the couch I hear him stand up. And to my dismay, this dreadfully exhausted man, picked up his guitar and started strumming in rhythm to the song on the computer. Then he stopped the music and he took over singing and playing the guitar. I plopped down on my butt in the hall wondering HOW long he was going to play. WELL- I’ll tell ya. LIKE 45 MINUTES. So I just sat there waiting (figuring I’d invested this much time into my scare that I couldn’t stop NOW). After Starling went through ten different songs, he finally YAWNED and put the guitar back on its stand.
I groggily lay completely flat on the ground. I was practically asleep by this point. Starling walked in front of me, pausing at our door to EASE it open so as not to wake me. As he turned the knob, I grabbed both his feet while whisper-shouting-moaning in a terrifying voice, “STAAAAAAAAAARLIIIIIIINNNNGGGG!”
He, who had moments earlier been dragging his feet, let out a WHOOP and started high stepping and kicking at the booger wrapped around his legs. I’m a pro, of course, and had already moved out of danger’s way. He flipped on the hall light and grabbed my cackling self. “HOW LONG have you BEEN THERE!?”
WELL, yesterday Starling made the great attempt to get me back.
I was busily folding clothes. I picked up a pair of jeans and a giant roach leapt out at me. I high stepped it, squealed like a pig, and flung the jeans AND roach across the laundry room. When the roach landed with a thud on its BACK, I realized it was made of rubber. Umm hmm. Starling. I stopped folding laundry, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of knowing I’d found his little surprise.
And even though I know good and well that I DESERVE a startle, I immediately sought revenge. I brought Starling some chips and salsa and we sat down to watch an episode on NetFlix. We were well into the movie. Brooklyn had salsa dripping down her arms, Brighton was standing up in his rocking chair which was threatening to dump him at any moment. Starling was completely focused on the t.v. with his hand in the chip bag. And it was at that moment that Starling found it. “AHHH!!!”
The kids and I looked at him. Brighton started giggling as Starling slung the plastic roach along with the handful of chips he’d grabbed, across the room.
“Took you long enough to find it.” I said. Starling picked the roach up and threw it at me. Brooklyn started screaming, completely clueless that it was a fake roach, yelling, “NoOOO!!! Don’t put it on mommy! Put it in the potty!!!” And Brighton, still giggling, rushed over to the chip bag and grabbed and handful of chips and slung them across the room in the same manner Starling had previously demonstrated.
We had to, of course, pause the movie so I could calm Brooklyn down, as she was crying hysterically because we were touching the roach with our bare hands, and Starling could vacuum. BUT. It was worth it.
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