Raising Vandals

It's taken me a year to get around to spending 50 dollars (an exorbitant amount for us) to attractively frame and mat a poster I found at a yard sale. It took my kids approximately 3 and a half seconds to get their hands on a bouncy ball (not on my watch, I would like to point out) and bounce it right into the picture and break the glass. I was tempted to hang it that way, so it would coordinate with the slipcovers that have been shredded in strategic places by a certain 4-year-old with scissors, and with the pretty lamps I found at Target which now sport unattractively spliced cords (same 4-year-old, same scissors), and with the beautiful maple coffee table which was gouged across the top by my eldest daughter's belt buckle within 24 hours of entering our house. Martha Stewart, eat your heart out.

Did I mention that Larry just installed granite counters in our kitchen, on the assumption that they would be indestructible? I, for one, am not betting any money on that.

Larry has left me, by the way. Oh, not permanently, of course - if he had done that, I would have made him take the kids with him. Just 2 days - long enough for me to feel sorry for myself, but not so long that he can't atone for this abandonment by showering me with lovely gifts upon his return. Chocolate would be nice.