The stand off.

I have commented before about how diametrically opposite the boblings are.  Robby is like me, he wants things neat and orderly.  Actually, he is very much like Bob in that he wants things put away but he still has the uncontrollable need to acquire crap.  Of course, to them it is not crap but I assure you, it is indeed crap.

Now Drake is an interesting combination of his parents.  He inherited my social skills and my empathy (Robby took all of Bob's apathy).  However, he latched on to the "I must acquire crap" gene from Robby and Bob.  Although, in this we are all agreed (except Drake) that he acquires garbage.  Literally.  The child will dumpster dive in our trash and recycling and scurry away with his treasures.

Two nights ago Drake discovered a large empty box which Bob then gave to him.  I sat at my table muttering something about "Great...feed the habit..." as my eye began to twitch.  Drake's room will get so bad that I find myself avoiding it, even looking in, and getting through bedtime tuck in as fast as I can with blinders on.  So I started a tradition with Drake.  When his collection gets to the point where I want to kick puppies, then I will allow him to keep his latest and greatest treasure in exchange for Mommy going in and cleaning his room MY way.  This is always accomplished while he is in school or out of the house otherwise every straw or empty toilet paper tube becomes "but that is my FAVORITE!!  It is SPECIAL to me".

Today I took into Drake's room MY way.  He gets to keep the large box which he labeled toy box and I got to throw away kleenex he had pinned to his wall, lollipop sticks that he hid in is sock drawer and the nearly empty soda can he made into a rocket...upside down.  I went a little over board so I am now off to Toys'R'Us to buy a Nerf basketball set...to replace the broken net he got from school ("can you believe it was free?!") that he had pinned to his bed, the wall and his dresser which wasn't able to stay up with the weight of his pillow pet.

This is not happening...

My plan was to post some of my favorite Drake memories on Facebook today so I came over here to my blog and shared a few.  Unfortunately my FAVORITE Drake story was only eluded to in the "Amateur" post.  The original must have been in my old blog.  So... I thought I would take a moment to retell the story for those that are unfamiliar with it.

It was back when Drake was only 3 or 4.  My girlfriend and her daughter went with us to St. Edwards park to let the kids run and play for the morning.  The boys and I had never been to that park so it was quite fun.  After a few hours of play we decided it was time to get cleaned up for lunch and head home.  As we are walking to the van we past the restrooms.  I asked Robby to take Drake into the bathroom and for both of them to wash their hands.  My girlfriend and I stood outside waiting for them when all of a sudden Robby comes running out of the bathroom yelling, "MOM!!!  Drake has some sort of a balloon in his mouth!"  Pause for effect...Are you thinking the same thing I was thinking at that precise moment?  

I VAULTED into the Mens room, completely uncaring who I may catch off guard, only to discover that he indeed had a balloon in his mouth, a little green water balloon.  I was SO relieved that is wasn't the "balloon" I feared it was, I tossed it in the trash, tried not to think about the fact that he had retrieved it from UNDER a urinal and made a mental not to kiss him until I had brushed his teeth 100 times.

Later that night when I was finally able to laugh about the scenario, I posted a blog about it.  It was all laughs and "OMG's!" until a friend of mine (who works for the police department) asked if I was sure it wasn't a "mule balloon".  OMG!!!  These are my choices?!  A "love balloon" or a cocaine balloon that had been lodged in someones carcASS?!  

Thankfully, after my brain shut down while I was huddled in the corner, rocking and muttering, "This is not happening.  This is not happening..."  I did what every self respecting mother would do.  I repressed that thought and those images and didn't smooch him for a week.

You can't buy memories like these.  You really can't.