Day 572 - Auntie Anne's Pretzel Twisted Tales

The moon is full, and there's a distant, horrifying howl. This can only mean one of two things: Either Scott walked out of the bathroom without his pants and Lisa dry-heaved or...it's time for Auntie Anne's Pretzel Twisted Tales!

For two weeks, Auntie Anne (pretzel maven) paid us a visit. She hadn't seen us, the kids, or Crazy Grandma and Lazy Grandpa since January. It's always interesting when Auntie Anne stays with us because it reminds me of what it was like growing up with her.

Why oh why, did she stay with us?

Yet during her stay, Auntie Anne was pretty helpful. She would cook dinner (pretzels), fold the laundry (in the shape of pretzels), and play with the kids. One game in particular the kids loved. She would dip the kids in melted butter, salt them, and wrap them in parchment paper. I had a few pictures of that, but I think the cops confiscated them for evidence.

The one thing that Auntie Anne was not very good at was putting things away. The kids have become very good at grabbing things. They go on their tippy toes. They use boxes as step stools. They also received their forklift licenses. These kids could do their own Thomas Crown Affair heist. They're that good.

Lisa and I would remind Auntie Anne to make sure she put away her ipod, digital camera, and bag of razor blades in a safe place. Basically anything that she didn't want the kids to touch, she had better put away. There was a time when Andrew found Auntie Anne's bra on the side of the sofa which is safe enough, but that was something I didn't want the kids to touch. Especially Andrew. We had a hard enough time having him return Lisa's thongs.

While Lisa and I were in the kitchen doing dishes after breakfast, Auntie Anne was entertaining the kids with hilarious stories about the pretzel industry. All of a sudden, we hear an "Oh no!" and then Andrew started to cry. At first I thought Andrew found Auntie Anne's bra again, but it was worse. Andrew spilled a mug of coffee on himself!

First thing first, don't worry. I was able to take the coffee stain off the rug and sofa. Secondly, Andrew was fine. Thankfully, the mug was full of lukewarm coffee. Auntie Anne left her coffee mug on the edge of our bookshelf, and Andrew was able to get on his tippy toes to grab it. I think Andrew cried because he was more scared of our reaction than the actual coffee spilling on him. We had Auntie Anne screaming, "Are you okay?" And Lisa was screaming, "Was the coffee hot?" And I was screaming, "Where's the upholstery cleaner?"

We know it was an accident so we didn't get too angry at Auntie Anne -- after all, we want some of that pretzel money when she dies. At least she learned to be more careful when the kids are around. And as for Andrew, he's 100% fine and probably forgot the entire incident. Except for the fact that he actually got a little taste of coffee that day and is now addicted to lattes and americanos. Talk about a wired kid!