Why Am I Not Surprised?

Who Should Paint You: Pablo Picasso

You are an expressive soul who shows many emotions, with many subtleties Only a master painter could represent your glorious contradictions

What Artist Should Paint Your Portrait?

From the Nosebleed Section

So I was in my office, sitting at the computer, and I could hear Baby Bear running all over the house, whooping and laughing and evidently enjoying himself. I didn’t hear any crashing or shattering or house-shaking thumps. Finally he galloped into my office. I turned in my swivel chair to see two things on his face: A big smile . . . and blood. It was also splattered on his hands and arms and chest.

I shrieked. He laughed. Fortunately it only took a few seconds for me to ascertain he had a nosebleed and had been wiping at it, hence the horror flick appearance. I took him into the bathroom to ply him with damp washcloths, and called for his dad to look around for bloodstains or any evidence of how the nosebleed might have started. He found none.

Mr. Lucky had been watching TV, and said he hadn’t noticed anything amiss. And I believed him, because anytime I come home after having been out for several hours, the whole house looks as if it’s been pillaged and plundered by barbarians, and he always insists the kids must have done all of it just in the past few minutes, because up to that point he was watching them like a hawk the whole time. Uh huh. He watches them until I pull into the driveway, then he directs his attention elsewhere while my three little darlings gather in a huddle: “Mom just pulled up, so we have to act fast if we want to really make her yell. Sis, you ransack the living room and dining room, and this time, see if you can pull the chandelier low enough to swing it into the curio cabinet. Bro, you do the kitchen, and don’t forget to leave the fridge door open after you spread the leftovers all over the floor. I’ll take the bedrooms and bathroom and see how much stuff I can flush down the toilet before it finally overflows. Good thing we don’t have to worry about the family room, it’s always a wreck.”

It’s like Cat in the Hat in reverse, the part where the goldfish sees their mother's shapely leg out on the sidewalk and they must put everything back in order before she opens the door. I am to believe all this mass destruction took place in the less than single minute it takes me to pull into the driveway, get out of the car, and walk into a house that looks eligible for federal disaster aid, only to find Things One, Two and Three innocently occupied with a Disney cartoon, and Mr. Lucky on the computer playing Sim Galactic Empire or some such.

Fortunately Baby Bear was very cooperative while I stopped his nosebleed and cleaned him up, but of course he ignored my advice to take it easy for a while. I still don’t know what brought it on, and he’s been fine ever since.

But does nothing faze that child?

In Which Baby Bear Shows Off His Problem-Solving Skills

Remember Baby Bear's Ceiling Fan Tetherball, that led to the shortening of the pull chain for his overhead light? Since then, he's taken to batting the pull chain on the ceiling fan in my office, while I've had to use a stepping-stool to turn his bedroom light off without having to turn off the fan.

So guess what happens when he wakes up at seven in the morning--and on a Saturday, too!--and he wants to turn on his light, but he can't reach that two-inch long pull chain under the ceiling fan? He doesn't have a chair or stepping stool handy, and he doesn't want to wake up Mom.

What's a Bear to do? How about this:

The ensuing thunk launched me out of bed, while Mr. Lucky remained sound asleep.

The table is supposed to sit lengthwise parallel to that wall. The 27-inch TV sat atop it. I think the above picture explains what he did in well under a thousand words. And yes, the TV is upside-down, still attached to the DVD player on the table's lower level.

I could not budge it, not even to turn it upright. I had to wait until Mr. Lucky woke up.

The amazing thing is, the TV still works, though the color is way off now. Everything has a purplish-greenish tinge to it.

Time to show off my own problem-solving skills: I suppose we'll have to get a new, longer pull chain for him to bat at and wind around the fan's motor housing. But do I dare leave the stepping stool in his room until then? Or do I use the wall switch to shut off the light and the fan? (I like to keep the air circulating in his room at night.)

Or do we get a TV table on wheels, and roll the TV out of his room at night? We're already doing that with his computer.

Oh, and did I mention we're only two days into summer vacation?

The bright side: Baby Bear isn't hurt.