yesterday was a fun-filled shmorgesborg chalk full of excitement and surprise.

I began my day the same way I have for the past week, soar throat, crusty nasal cavities and chapped lips.

I open my mouth to say “good morning.” to my husband and instead a 85 year old, transvestite, smoker comes out to greet him.

I slither about the kitchen, slowly making myself breakfast in a mug my morning coffee and soon the little trolls are crawling out of bed asking for sustenance, so I begin doling out Corn Flakes.

after scraping milk-soaked corn flake shrapnel off the wood floors, I snag myself a pdq bath and wash my hair.

I then, throw my makeup bag into the air and see what lands on my face, run a brush through my nearly dry hair and by now, my mother is at my door to go pick out new cell phones.

mine has become a sad little shadow of it’s former self and has developed a mind of it’s very own, turning off by itself, choosing to “roam”, when clearly, we are out in the wide, cell-friendly open.

after selecting the free cheapest option, I come home and help the hubbie get the trolls ready for their doctor’s appointment.
after one big, giant fuzzy whirl of clothes and shoes, they are out the door and to their appointment on time.

later on, after eating our own dinner, we notice the trolls have escaped their designated eating pen dining room and the sound of maniacal laughter is waifting up the stairs from the playroom.

what happens next is not found in any playbook, it is not something any other parent warns you about. it is a common occurance around our house and if your lucky, you will never see photo documentation of it’s graphic nature.

two entire bowls-full of freshly cooked, butter coated noodles all over the playroom.
they were even kind enough to finely mince them with their forks, first.

as I followed the eerey trail of starch, it lead me to the bathroom, where, I’m pretty certain, I may have experienced a coranary episode.

I opened the door and saw what looked to be a homemade soap, noodle, toothpaste concoction floating in the bathroom sink.

reaching below the sink for the nearest bottle of drain cleaner, the hubbie poured a scant tablespoon down into the “beast”.
and like something from Mr. Wizard, smoke began to billow out from the drain.

as we collected ourselves upstairs and sent the trolls off to bed, we began to notice the smell….
I can’t describe the odorific melody that was dancing throughout our dwelling but it was definitely not citris-fresh or any sort of new and improved odor-neuralizing scent.

it began to singe the eyes and envelope our throats.

we pulled our sleeping children from their beds, wrapped them in warm, little caccoons and headed in our car over to Grandma and Papa’s house.

at midnight.

the second we walked in the door, our nastiness filled my parents house.
as much as I hated to intrude with our stinky brood, I couldn’t imagine what hell was going on back at our house, if we were all completley dripping with it’s aftermath.

we are yet to go back to the house to assess the damage.
we left the basement to air out overnight and I can only hope we don’t find a family of mutant, hybrid creatures residing in the basement bathroom or a family of bums who’ve snuck in through one of the ten open windows we left for them.

at any rate, our lungs have cleared and our headaches have subsided.

now, that just leaves a casual phone call to local Poison Control.