There is a lot of evidence that proves that I'm an idiot.
If you had managed to see me working out in the yard today, you would have witnessed me digging a hole, putting a shrub in it, burying the shrub's roots, and then digging that sucker back out of the ground and moving it a few inches one way or another. Several times. As in, I spent an hour moving a bunch of plants over and over and over because I wasn't smart enough to go get a tape measure and do it right the first time.
A few weeks ago, my head was filled with cursing and doomsday predictions because I was certain my car was making a not-good-very-bad-aw-hell-that's-going-to-be-expensive noise. That "noise" turned out to be Alexis clicking her tongue, but I only figured that out after turning off the radio and driving in silence for five minutes. Do you know what it costs to get a kid who never stops talking and singing to be quiet for five minutes? It costs a Britney Spears album, people. Although, now that I think about it, she wasn't exactly quiet for that five minutes, so I've been suffering through Brit-Brit's latest atrocities for nothing. Which, for the record, just proves that whole I'm an idiot thing even more, now doesn't it?
Because I'm an idiot, it doesn't come as a surprise that I have caused a disaster of monumental proportions. Where once there was peace and bliss, now there is misery and mayhem. I don't even need to kick myself in the face over the whole thing because Alexis has been doing it for me.
Literally.
Alexis is back in our bed at night. And, she has been punching and kicking me in the face all night long every night since St. Patrick's Day. I DESERVE IT.
Alexis had finally mastered the art of staying in her own bed all night long. Weeks and weeks and weeks had gone by, peace and nightly bliss finally ruling the land. But then came that stupid-face leprechaun and it all fell apart.
I partook in some St. Patrick's Day shenanigans and Alexis thanked me by developing a leprechaun phobia. As in, she is now afraid to go upstairs at night because she is convinced that the leprechaun that escaped her trap is waiting in her closet and will eat her face if she goes in there alone. She can't stay in her bed because the leprechaun will crawl under the closet door, teleport his way up her bed so he can rearrange her eyeballs and nose. She can't sleep at night because the leprechaun is waiting for her to close her eyes so he can murder Justin Bieber and Troy Bolton in her bedroom and then paint her walls with their blood.
I might be exaggerating. Except for the part where THE KID WON'T STAY IN HER DAMN BED.
Let's review. A fat guy in a red suit who smells suspiciously like booze and hangs out with freakishly short people is fine. The freakishly short people who make toys are fine. But! But! The freakishly short people who share her love of rainbows and gave her money and candy are evil soul-sucking harbingers of doom.
I should have predicted it would happen.
