YOU SHALL NOT PASS!

we set some new ground rules with the kids before we moved into the new digs with regard to authorized entry.  i got the idea from another couple who has 4 kids – they told me their kids are NOT ALLOWED into their bedroom for any reason…ever.  huh.  when you think about it, it’s only fair that we should have at least one place to hide hang out alone, without fear of screaming smackdowns or flying projectiles. i should be able to sit on this one toilet seat without marinating in urine from backside to feet.  with three other functioning televisions in the house, i should be able to watch hbo instead of iCarly alone, in my own bedroom.  i think that's not so much to ask. 

so far so good...they're keeping the hell out.  and i know that for sure because despite the fact that the new house is twice the size, the kids still continue to follow us around everywhere we go.  really?  you'd rather stand in the kitchen asking for shit you can't have or making inane observations than be up in the playroom watching cartoons and playing with the 19,000 plus toys up there?  i knew we should've looked for a dungeon bonus room instead of a playroom. 

but i can tell the curiosity is killing them.  what is in there that they don't want us to see????  did they get a pony?  is there a portal in their closet that leads to a fantastic world made out of candy and toys?  they have a bounce house in there - i just know it.  and a clown making balloon animals.  do you think they're pooping right now?  what about now?  wait...now?  dammit i need to SEE this and comment and ask more questions! how will i know for sure they've pooped unless i ASK...and then COMMENT?????  oooh...my world is spinning out of control...

heh heh...suckers.

not that we hadn't already made up our mind on the new rules, but our decision was further supported as sound by what we found under our bed when the movers lifted up the box springs to reveal the following inventory- (9) ea fruit snack packages, empty; (3) ea petrified fruit snacks, flavor unidentifiable; (2) ea bastard socks, kid size; (7) ea matchbox cars, assorted varieties; (1) ea pair of kid underpants, dirty; (2) ea pencils, unsharpened; (3) ea pokemon cards, assorted; (4) ea tissues, used; (1) ea nerf dart, broken; (72) cents, american; (1) ea wad of chewing gum, used, red (affixed to back of headboard); (1) ea drinking straw; (1) ea happy meal toy, broken; (1) ea donut hunk, petrified; (1) ea sandwich crust, furry; (5) ea balls, assorted. 

it's like we put up our bed over a landfill.  it's like there was an vortex of power underneath our bed that sucked random things out of our children's hands and into its evil clutches.  it's like we shared a home with 4 rabid zombie monkeys who knew nothing but destruction and chaos.  and CLEARLY this is why we can't have nice things.