Kids make some disturbing noises. They whine, they cry, they yell when you incorrectly peel their string cheese. Our 4-month-old daughter screams like a wild, red-faced dinosaur while strapped in her car seat during stop-and-go traffic. But the ultimate WORST sound that should make every parent freeze in terror is the sound of silence. A silent kid in the next room is like the quiet before the storm. You find yourself enjoying a moment of peace and quiet. Perhaps you think to yourself, “Wow, my kid is playing so well in the other room…maybe I’ll sleep in a little longer.” But then it slowly dawns on you that your kid has been a little too quiet for too long, and you just know that something horrible has happened. Guaranteed, you are about to discover a colossal magnitude-10 disaster of some kind. Here is a list of things we have found our kid doing quietly in the next room while we weren’t looking.*
- Pulling flowers apart, and scattering petals and pollen all over the house.
- Peeing on the carpet.
- Pooping on the carpet.
- Creating “art” on furniture, books, and walls with a permanent pen.
- Smashing a younger sibling, claiming that he was just “trying to be a limousine” with her. Your guess is as good as mine.
- Throwing objects out of a 3-story window.
- Flushing a roll of new toilet paper down the toilet.
- Sticking objects into electrical sockets.
- Eating popcorn off the Christmas tree.
- Dumping out fifty-billion-piece board games.
- Finding a bag of Oreos, pouring all of it on the floor, and consuming half the cookies.
- Digging through off-limit closets/drawers/cabinets.
- Opening a “childproof” bottle of medication, and ingesting pills. And that is why we have Poison Control on speed dial.
- Playing dress up with every single bra and underwear I own.
- Slipping valuable objects into a tiny little crevice between the wall and sink known as the “Black Hole.” Those objects are lost forever.
- Stamping our return address all over the desk and computer.
* Keep in mind that our child is 3 1/2 years old. Which means that we’ve only experienced the tip of the iceberg of destruction potential. Does anyone sell “my-kid-ruined-all-my-stuff” insurance?