Too bad today isn’t Monday, I’d have the perfect soundtrack for the day — The Bangles, “Manic Monday.”
It started with silly putty. Gorilla Girl loves the stuff, but in her adoration, leaves the neon putty attached to furniture, rugs, household bills, etc. Putty, as wonderfully resilient as it is to childhood manipulation, is not easily removed from certain cloth and paper surfaces. We finally eradicated silly putty from our house over the Winter Break, but in my recent weekend cooking-induced mellow, I was cajoled into purchasing another neon egg filled with the sticky stuff. GG promised that she would be “safe” with her putty. I relented.
Apparently, the putty is so precious that it went to bed with GG Monday night. This morning, the silly putty’s residue was a road map of our nighttime meanderings. Ed informed me shortly after my shower that GG’s pajamas were covered in silly putty; he also noted that GG was having a melt down in preparation for my presumed reaction of criticism. (In non-Orwellian speak, GG was freaked that I would freak, thus her tears to preempt my disapproval). It was early and I’d had a somewhat decent night’s sleep, so I was calm about the whole silly putty mess. GG’s pajamas were getting too small, and her sheets were getting worn out (and they were hand-me-downs). It was easy, we could just throw away the pajamas and sheets.
Residual putty on GG’s sheets made its way onto my pajamas, and from GG’s pajamas onto the sheets in my bed. Her nighttime wanderings took her to sleep with Monkey Man and Dad, while I retreated to GG’s bed, and the evidence of our movements was clear. Maybe homicide detectives could use this stuff.
Ed chastised me for capitulating to GG’s desires for putty, and pronounced that NO MORE SILLY PUTTY was allowed in our house.
By the way, websites suggest that stuck silly putty can be removed by WD40 and putty knives — not quite the solution we’d like to use on the bedsheets and clothing in our house!