I’m sure you’re tired of watching me clean my house, so just fake polite for a couple more posts?
Ooooh, Ivory, nice laundry room.
Why, you’re just too kind!
And check out that closet. I bet it stays that way for almost 72 hours!
Wow, girlfriend is really growing or I need to do some laundry. And are all her shoes buried in the yard? Note to self. Daughter is naked.
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Mr. Ivory and I are Spring Summer Cleaning. When Mr. Ivory and I moved into this neighborhood, MIL graced us with all of his boxes from her attic, which we never opened. Until now… Two of my favorite items are pictured above. Is it still called a remote-controlled car if it’s on a cord?
Daisy Sonic Air gun. REALLY LOUD. No bullets, yet no orange tip. Definitely a backyard toy.
Grampa’s hooch tote…
…complete with twenty-year-old gin.
This is a horrid picture of some vintage books that refused to be photographed. It think it’s cause they’re too uppity. Amazon says they’re worth about 200 bucks.
Oooo, tools. I’m channeling Caroline Ingalls right now!
Three pairs of binoculars. Pop-ups. Nana’s opera glasses. And Grampa’s big ones in the leather case.
Father-in-law’s ship’s(?) barometer and Arctic Circle flight certificate.
20-year-old Sega game gear.
Electrocution hazard in a box.
Mr. Ivory called this the “Box of Awesomeness.” Nintendo with original Super Mario Brothers.
And last, but not least. My childhood Barbies, minus the headless ones. Billion degree attics do something to the rubber bands. Like Western Barbie below:
The eyes used to blink by a button in back, but one is missing and the other turned to putty. Western Lazy-Eye Barbie.
Ivory
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According to my favorite child-rearing dude, parents can designate the hall bath as the “conference room” for all sibling disagreements. Any complaints about each other to me or arguments that disturbs the family peace are immediately recessed to the “conference room” for a fifteen minute closed-door conflict resolution session. If frowny faces remain after fifteen minutes, the door is closed again for another 15-minute session.
This has had two effects:
1) We haven’t mediated anything in weeks.
2)We’ve snaked the toilet three times.
My recommendation, super glue all disassemble-able fixtures in the bathroom and install a metal detector on the bathroom door.
Okay, that’s not practical. Fine.
If you plan to let your children use your bathroom as a conference room, or God forbid, brushing their teeth, I suggest/discourage the following:
These don’t work. My kids still leave their toothbrushes on the sink. And even if they do use them, then I have toothpaste dripping down my walls and mirrors instead.
These faucet thingies are awesome. My water bill is nill compared to the old turn-it-on-full-blast-and-leave-it days. Bump for water. Automatically turns off. I think they were five bucks.
This is the best thing we ever bought. Our children are no respecters of parent toothbrushes. They end up on the floor, in the kitchen, outside…and we aren’t even going to talk about the disgusting mess that is our toothpaste tubes! But, since Mr. Ivory and I are both shower brushers anyway, this little contraption is the best thing that ever happened to our sanity.
Remember that Seinfeld episode when the toothbrush went in the toilet? That used to be my life. Every morning was a gamble.
Oh, and don’t forget the toilet snake. Must have for every household!
Ivory
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