Little feet, big mischief

Heron had to work today.
They had the regular bar crowd, and then some kind of St. Patrick's Day race.
I'll do a time jump.
He called late this evening, said he was off work, and going to his girlfriend's house for the night.

He said he was exhausted. 
They had been kept busy, cooking pizza all day.
 He asked me and Badger to put up his cats and give them water. 
He had planned on coming home after work, but plans changed

Raven and the kids left at 11 a.m. today. 
This was one of our better weekends with the kids, but I hate to admit it, it’s still a relief when they leave. 
We can let the cats out of their laundry room and the dogs out of the bedroom. 
The house quietens down and feels like ours again.

Well, our stock tank pool finally sold. 
I’m glad to see it go. 
Cowboy wanted his yard back. 
I hate that we wasted so much money on it, and I didn’t even get half of what we originally paid. 
It was a good idea, just bad timing.

The man who bought it said, “Wow! GPS couldn’t even find you!” 
I mean, Google Maps knows where I live, and we’re not even out in the deep boonies. 
I made the mistake of forgetting to tell him to follow the signs to the senior citizen center. 
That always brings people right to our yard. 
The kids were here yelling and running, and I couldn’t think straight.

He’s going to use it as a duck pond.
 He said he has ducks, chickens, and goats. 
Sounds like my dream. 
Badger spent the afternoon deep cleaning. 

The house wasn’t all that dirty this time, but Badger does have OCD. 
She can’t handle the thought of how kids tend to trail dirt behind them like Linus with his blanket and they always seem a bit germy to her. 
The house sparkles now. 
She even cleaned the stove inside and out.

I probably should keep this to myself, but I like to blab. 
Badger uses this toilet cleaner that to me looks like a blob of chewing gum. 
It comes with this little thing that pops it in the toilet, and it should last for a month. 
She went to use the bathroom last night, and that cleaner wasn’t in the toilet anymore.
It has this strong perfumed odor; she looks over at the shelf, sees, I don’t know, probably something they dragged in from outside. 
But you could see traces of that cleaner on it, and it smelled strongly of the cleaner. 
One of the kids had to go in that commode, scraped that cleaner out, and I shudder to even think of what they did with it. 
We didn’t find it. 
No one is dead or sick, so we can hopefully assume they didn’t try to chew it.

I don't have a solution to them messing around in the bathroom.
There’s nothing I can do about it. 
I can’t put a camera in there, and they’re too old to babysit through a bathroom break.

Badger says that she'll start just stripping everything out on Fridays, put everything in boxes, and lock them in our bedrooms.
That's honestly pathetic.
I can excuse Vier making messes; she'll be three in April.
But the boys are 9, 8, and 6. 
They should know darn better.

After she finished cleaning, she retreated to her room for a while.
That was a lot of work, then she also made supper. 
She's a hard worker. 
Cowboy slept until time for evening service.
I headed to my room. 
I have a book I'm reading.

After church and supper, Badger and I took a quick walk. 
One of her homework assignments from therapy is to get outside every day and get some physical activity.
That’s harder in the winter but easier once it warms up.

I actually sat and watched TV with Cowboy tonight. 
He was watching a series with Michelle Pfeiffer and Kurt Russell. 
It wasn't the best thing I've watched, but it wasn't the worst either.

Tomorrow is my laundry day.
Usually there are three other people trying to beat me to the washer.
I’m going to try to get to it early and mark my territory, so to speak.

Raven said he’s taking a week of vacation and going to his former partner’s house to help her. 
She’ll be in the hospital all week, and the kids start spring break on Monday. 
That’s one less person trying to get to the washer.

He’s been told he can’t bring the kids down here for the whole week of spring break.
I really hope he listens, because it just isn’t possible.

Cowboy is 66 years old, and some nights he doesn’t walk through the door until three or four in the morning. 
He doesn’t sit behind a desk. 
He’s out there doing hard physical labor every single night. 
He needs his sleep, and there is no way he can get it with kids running around here. 
It’s just not doable.

No plans for tomorrow. 
Looking at the forecast for the week ahead, it seems like we’re swinging back into winter for a bit. 
I’ve seen the redbuds blooming, so maybe it’s Redbud Winter.

The show isn’t over yet, but I’m heading to bed.
 I have a book I want to finish.
It’s about how the Great Smoky Mountains National Park got its start, told by one of the residents the government forced out to build the park.
 I don’t think it was listed as juvenile fiction, but it sure reads like it.