It was the night before Thanksgiving, and all through the house, not a creature was sleeping, except for the boy and his, well, that's our Doofus Dawg and he is WAY bigger than a mouse.

Then, someone suggests, quite innocently,"Wouldn't it be funny, if we painted his toe nails?"

Now, most people would probably think, "Yes, but it wouldn't be very nice." 

"Why yes, yes, it would, I'll get the nail polish!"

Then again, we are NOT most people, he IS the only boy in the house and, well, the kid pretty much pranks us...ALL THE TIME...so, it's all in the name of good, clean, fun, right?

"You're gonna make him cry."

Apparently, my 13 yo did NOT think it was such a great idea, but went along with it, anyway.

"That's just not right."

Neither did my husband, Garth [not his real name] who woke up with his fingernails painted, once, but that time I...I mean...we painted them black and he DID notice before leaving the house for work.

"Shhhh, you're gonna wake him up."

My son, however, slept through it all and it wasn't until sometime, in the middle of breakfast, the next day, that he even noticed!

"GAAAAAH, who painted my toenails?!?"

Aaaand, there was much giggling.

[eyes go wide]

Until, it dawned on him that, you know, someone painted HIS toenails.

"I told you he would cry."

Yeah, maybe we should have listened to Heather (obviously, she HAS more sense than her mother) but, my SIL was a little surprised at how upset he got (having slept over, on the night in question) and, well, she, or I would have let him in on the prank, before anyone else arrived for Thanksgiving dinner.

"I am SO embarrassed!"

Then again, maybe I've grown a little too used to dealing with girls, who cry, just because they can and aren't boys supposed to be all, you know, snakes and snails and puppy dog tails?

"I'm SO sorry, Bud; I really thought you'd think it was funny!"

Apparently, I was wrong...AGAIN!

"Well, IT'S NOT!"

I stood there, watching him, as he tried to wipe the nail polish off with a wet piece of toilet paper, and I wanted to crawl under a rock, and die, probably just as much as he wanted me to, if not more, I'm sure.

"Here, let me do that for you."

I grabbed the nail polish remover and started to, you know, try and clean up yet ANOTHER BIG MESS I'd gotten us into and, well, we each took turns and thanked my son for accepting our apologies, as half-assed as it sounds, at the moment.

"We didn't mean to make you cry!"

Lesson Learned:  Girls are spice and everything nice, until their brother's asleep and there happens to be a bottle of nail polish, near by.

"Besides, you can always stick one of their fingers in a glass of warm water and make them pee their beds!"

Less than smart mothers, like me, however, deserve nothing more than strained carrots and peas, or made to watch the Doodle Bops, until our eyes explode AND our ears begin to bleed.

"No, that would  be mean."

Although, he DID giggle...a little...me, too.

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