So, the other day when Andrew went roller skating, he brought back two flying monkeys (uh, stuffed ones, not the real deal from Oz), one brown for him, and one pink for Kyra.
They (the monkeys, not the kids) have little capes and masks and rubber bands in their arms. Their little hands are pockets, so you can slip your fingers in there, pull back on their tails, and zing! They fly across the room.
Upon landing, however, the make the most hideous noise known to mankind. I am tempted to fling one at the floor, record it, and post it here to prove it is the most hideous noise known to mankind.
As you’ve probably guessed, it’s all I’ve been hearing for the past few days, because while it’s the most hideous noise known to mankind, it is also the noise guaranteed to make kids laugh.
So, the other morning, when the kids wouldn’t budge from bed, I went in search of the flying, hideous-noise-making monkeys (one under the dining room table, the other next to the bathroom sink). Then, loving mom that I am, I flung the flying monkeys at the kids.
Monkeys hit child; monkeys make the most hideous noise known to mankind. Child wakes up laughing.
So much for revenge.