Saturday, November 9, 2013

Baking Nails and Anxiety Issues

 Almost daily, a walk through my house resembles a scene out of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.

I'd like to say that I don't know why but the reality is that I do.

My family is insane – and so are their friends.

Last night I was in the office when the Island Girl burst through the door yelling about nails in the oven. She'd preheated the oven and when the oven reached 400 she opened the door and found this.


She's recently acquired a taste for iced coffee so she was all caffeinated up and yelling about the smoke that came pouring out when she opened the door and the nails she found once the smoke cleared.

The Island King heard the commotion and came running into the kitchen, yelling that we had to get his nails out of the oven and to open all of the doors to air the house out.

I'm used to smoke pouring out of the oven when I open the door so that didn't bother me too much but I was concerned about someone using my favorite loaf pan to cook nails.

But the Island King was yelling about his nails and the Island Girl was yelling and the dog was barking so there was definitely a moment of pure chaos – which is par for the course around here.

Unfortunately, our friend Oliver (formerly known as Cruella DeVille) doesn't do well with chaos and he happened to be standing in the middle of the kitchen while it was going on.

I saw a blur of something go by and as the smoke cleared, the Island King explained that his nails had gotten wet and that he'd put them in the oven on a low bake for a while to dry them out. He remembered to turn the oven off but for some reason he didn't take the pan out.

The Island Girl and I just shook our heads - of course he put nails in the oven - that's just something he'd do.

Right about then the Island Boys walked in the door and asked why Oliver was running down the street.

Oh, and Buddy the Beagle got out when we opened the doors to air the smoke out and he's running down the street in the opposite direction.

The boys were dispatched to get Buddy and the Island Girl went in search of Oliver.

Oliver didn't want to come back and had to be coaxed but she did manage to get him back into the house but he went straight to the closet and wouldn't come out.

I wish I could say that I felt compassion for his extreme distress but all I could do was laugh – hysterically.

By now, that fire has been put out and the Island King has been given the simple task of putting up a curtain rod. He was still a little grumpy about his nails “getting overheated” so he was stomping around and banging on the wall and that tickled me even more.

You'd think that after the coffee pot incident I'd know better than to poke the bear but I couldn't help laughing at him for baking his nails.

Which is when we heard a crash and a lot of yelling coming from the boy's room. Down the hall I go to find their curtain rod hanging off the wall and hear several different stories about how that happened.

Back down the hall I go to tell the Island King that he now has two curtain rods to hang, which caused him to bang harder on the wall.

The boys were fighting and he was banging on the wall and the dog was barking and then the Youngest yelled “The dog is eating somebody's pizza!”

Buddy has food issues and we're really working on that with him but he will bite you if you try and take stolen food away from him so the Island King stops what he's doing and starts trying to lure Buddy down the hall and away from the pizza.

Buddy is barking furiously because he really wants that pizza but he also knows he's not supposed to have it. He's running up and down the hallway and we know that the Island King is the only one who can handle him when he goes into “my food” mode so we're all standing back when I hear the sliding glass door slam shut.

This second bought of yelling and barking sent poor Oliver over the edge but Buddy has blocked access to the front door and the Island Girl's bedroom so Oliver has retreated to the Florida room and won't come out.

It took a LONG time to get him to come back inside, which is when we found out that it was his pizza Buddy ate.

That was the final straw and I laughed until I cried. It seems that my house isn't an ideal place to hang out if you have anxiety issues.
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