The Four Gingerbread houses of DOOM

That there is the face of EVIL. Trust me.

We have these four gingerbread houses from the holidays. Each kid made one at school, and at the library. NOTE TO SELF: When The Boy is in 1st Grade, skip the gingerbread activity at the library, we've got enough damn gingerbread houses happening, no need for another.

In school, The Boy did one at Universal Pre Kindergarten. I fellow parent came in and it was a project for them. Little Miss got to do one at school, as a First Grade event with parents coming to help. WOO to the HOO.

I didn't know these would be happening when I signed the little monsters up for the same f-ing activity at the library......and let me tell you, at  my son's age, I'm still stuck going into the program with him. Yes, pure torture.

And that is how I ended up with four of these damn things in my house. Of course, the children will not let me throw them out.......seriously, I'm going to lose my mind. Our tree is still up, which is okay, I don't mind. I kind of like it up until February. No joke, or sarcasm. I like it up that long. Makes me feel happy when I see it.

However, until that tree comes down, the kids think these gingerbread houses are welcome in our home. THEY.ARE.NOT.

Especially after today's episode of the "hearing what I want to hear" starring The Boy.

The Boy: I wish I could eat this gingerbread house.
ME: Hell no, that thing's been there since before Christmas, are you nuts. Disgusting. Don't touch the gingerbread house.
The Boy: 'Kay.

He runs into the Living Room, as I read the paper in the kitchen, drinking my water, since I'm doing my two day deep cleanse. Then I see him dart into the kitchen again, stand by the four gingerbread houses, and isn't moving........but I swear I can see his little hand dart up, and down again, and I can swear I see his little mouth moving.........

ME: What are you doing?
The Boy whips around: Nothing.

He then slowly chews what's in his mouth.

ME: Did you just eat that gingerbread house?
The Boy: The look of fear on his face, and shame for doing something he knows was wrong, comes over him and he runs into the living room to hide.

Apparently, when I said not to touch the Gingerbread HOUSE, he heard "Well, don't touch the house, but eat all the shit that you attached to it, because that's just pure awesome. It's candy and it's been sitting out, but candy is so horrible and full of chemicals, it's not going bad, so ENJOY. Shove your face full of it. Just don't touch that HOUSE."

WHAT THE HELL?

Damn things are getting tossed, right in front of them, and they can cry all they want to.......at this point, I'll enjoy the torture I'm bestowing on The Boy. I'm sure it'll be just one more thing he can share with his therapist when he's older.......

Just doing my part to keep those therapists in business.