Why, yes, I do indulge in bonbons all day long. I stash them safely on top of the refrigerator, which is crucial since if I leave them anywhere lower, my kids will discover them, gobble them up, and turn into chocolate-fueled tornadoes with smeared faces. Then I’d have to wet a washcloth, chase them around the house, and scrub the chocolate off their cheeks. Honestly, that’s just more work than I need.
So, I sneak a bonbon while the kids wait for breakfast. They always request three different items, so I’m busy making oatmeal, toasting bread, and pouring cereal — not to mention the perfect mix of milk and juice. By the time they finish eating, I’ve also loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the counters. And what do I have? A cold cup of coffee. Cold coffee equals bonbon time.
Next up: getting them dressed. My oldest can pick out his clothes and dress himself, though it usually comes out inside out and backward. The middle child needs me to choose his outfit, but he can manage the dressing. The littlest one, however, thinks running away naked while giggling is the best game ever. I’ve got to chase him down, pull him away from the furniture he’s clinging to, and stuff him into clothes — like dressing an unwilling octopus. After that, it’s time for tooth brushing and the inevitable nagging that follows, then hair. Don’t even get me started on the hair. I absolutely deserve a bonbon.
Today, I set them up with watercolors while I tackle seven baskets of clean laundry. Yes, I said seven. Picture an overflowing basket, then multiply that by seven. They take over my couch! As I’m sorting — which is murder on my back — the kids start fighting over the water cups. I pour them each a separate cup, but the baby promptly dumps his. Watercolors are officially over, but the laundry is still waiting. Time for another bonbon.
I let the kids outside with our dog since we have a privacy fence, and I’m not worried about social services knocking on the door. Plus, two of the three can come get me if anything goes wrong. While they play, I finish the laundry and start on lunch. I need to whip up something nutritious, featuring a veggie, some meat, and a grain, all while trying to make it visually appealing, like cute octopuses or bear heads. But when they come in, they refuse to eat it, opting instead for plain pieces of bread. Guess who ends up eating their leftovers? That’s right—I eat a bonbon.
After lunch, the kids settle down with some TV time. I take a breather and check my computer, scrolling through Facebook and filling my cart with clothes I can’t afford. Naturally, I sneak a few more bonbons during this little escape.
Then it’s time for storytime. Every time we finish a book, the kids bicker over which one to read next. I end up reciting “Hop on Pop” and “Dr. Seuss’s ABC” instead of actually reading. At least they let me read “Dragons Love Tacos” and “Don’t Let the Pigeon Ride the Bus.” Strangely, their all-time favorite book is a thrift store find about Fraggles. I shouldn’t have to read about Fraggles, but guess what? Bonbon time, please!
Speaking of cleaning, our bathroom desperately needs attention. The kids swarm around me, fascinated by the spray bottles and scrub brushes. They love anything related to the toilet. I hand them their own mini spray bottles to prevent them from grabbing the Clorox. I spend five minutes cleaning pee off the toilet base because little boys can’t aim, and then another ten minutes scrubbing other parts for the same reason. They leave tiny muddy footprints on the wet floor, so I have to clean it all over again. My bonbon might taste like bleach, but it’s still a bonbon, dammit.
Now it’s time to tackle the kids’ rooms—a magical hour where we attempt to get them to pick up the mess they’ve created through imaginative play. Expect whining, tantrums, and maybe even some minor meltdowns. I try dividing tasks between them, which lasts about two minutes. Then I attempt to help out, only to realize I’m the only one cleaning. I start singing that annoying cleanup song, repeating it twenty times. It’s a struggle to swallow that bonbon.
Finally, I get started on dinner. As I’m in the kitchen, the kids are busy trashing their rooms again.
Forget it.
I eat a bonbon.
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Summary
This humorous piece describes the daily life of a mother who cleverly sneaks bonbons throughout her busy day, filled with the challenges of parenting three children. From breakfast chaos to laundry battles, the author highlights the little indulgences that keep her sane amidst the chaos of family life.