Things that happen when Racheal gets bored..........

I know I've written about this before, but it can't be overstated. Racheal is crazy. I mean really crazy. Let me explain.

I enjoy Tuesdays and Wednesdays. They're probably two of my favorite days of the week. Not only because Racheal is off of work and we generally get to spend more time together, but also because of how interesting it is when I come home from work. I have absolutely no clue what I'm going to come home to. No idea, whatsoever. Trying to predict what I'm going to come home to see would be like trying to guess what kind of diseases the cast of MTV's The Jersey Shore was carrying. It could literally be anything. Maybe I come home and she ripped up all of the carpet out of a bedroom. Maybe I come home and she painted the bathroom. Again. Maybe it's something simple and I come home and she hung up life-size pictures of the kids in the front hallway. Maybe it's something outlandish and I come home and she made homemade meatballs. Or maybe I come home and she moved all of Jaxon's stuff into the boys' room, and moved Tori's stuff into Jaxon's room. (Which actually makes sense because Jaxon spends exactly zero minutes a day in his room. He sleeps in the boys' room, plays in the boys' room, makes messes in the boys' room, etc. And since Tori and Scarlett are basically reincarnations of Racheal and Maxine, I'm sure we're only about six weeks away from one of them poisoning the other. Anyway.) Maybe I come home to Racheal sitting on the couch in her pajamas surrounded by a sea of Laffy Taffy wrappers. Maybe I come home and everybody's gone. (At which point I usually panic, because it opens up the possibilities of what they could be doing to all of planet earth.) Or maybe I come home and she's rearranging the kitchen cabinets for the 11,000th time. (All of those things have happened, by the way.) But maybe, just maybe, I come home and she's done something completely indescribable. Something so ridiculous that I'm still having trouble putting it into words. I guess I'll just show you:

When I first saw this, I thought maybe that Chuck E. Cheese
had some sort of new Photoshop ride. I was wrong.

Yep. You see that correctly. That's my blond headed baby. With black hair. Looking like a baby Wayne Newton. Except Jaxon still has all of the skin left on his face, of course. But wait. It gets worse. When I got home, I made a comment about how he looked like Eddie Munster, but that the curtains didn't match the drapes. (Meaning that his hair and eyebrows were different colors. Get your mind out of the gutter.) Anyway, big mistake. That prompted Rach to get out her makeup and go to work. She drew him some black eyebrows. Then she painted his nails. Then she gave him some guyliner. She said she wanted him to look like a little baby rockstar. Think Bret Michaels without the hair plugs and do-rag. So she put him in a little shirt and tie to make him look Emo. Sadly, he went from looking like Eddie Munster to Adam Glambert. It was terrible. I'd show pictures, but I couldn't bring myself to take any. Keith tried to make me feel better by saying, "You know, if you take away the fingernail polish and the makeup, and put some glasses on him, he kind of looks like a baby Clark Kent." Thanks Keith. Nice try.

And now, it's Wednesday afternoon, and who knows what I'm going to find when I get home. Come to think of it, I'm starting to hate Tuesdays and Wednesdays.