You may recall that we have a Rule in our House that goes something like this: whenever one Parent suggests something involving the Children that will inevitably be ruined by the fact of their involvement, the other one shoots down the suggestion in the strongest of terms, complete with insults and character attacks, all of which are accepted as necessary to enforce the Rule.

While the Rule is fairly effective at eliminating poor decision-making, it isn’t entirely fool-proof. For example, last week Gavin asked Levia if we could go to The Diner for dinner, a request Levia relayed to me.

“Did you just have these kids yesterday?” I asked, with over-the-top snarkiness.

“But it’s his birthday,” Levia replied reasonably.

“Even worse! Then he’ll be spending his birthday on Time-Out, after we don’t have fun at The Diner!”

We ended up going to The Diner, and I spent the majority of the time shooting Levia various kinds of nasty I-Told-You-So looks, because, after all, I Told Her So.

Sometimes, however, strict adherence to the Rule can have Unintended Consequences. This past weekend, Levia mentioned that she needed to make some Returns to various stores at The Mall. Ordinarily, any suggestion of going to The Mall makes me immediately sweaty and anxious, but for some bizarre reason, every Black Friday weekend I find myself thinking that it might be interesting to take a trip, which is totally insensible, because it is never interesting at all. Nevertheless, I suggested that we all might go together, and wouldn’t that be fun?

“That’s just Dumb,” said Levia flatly.

“You’re right,” I said, immediately recognizing the Error of my Ways. And then, perhaps as Penance for my ridiculousness, I said, “the children seem reasonably occupied, why don’t you just go and take care of the Mall Stuff yourself, and then…”

Before I could finish the sentence, Levia declared that she Wholeheartedly Agreed, and bolted out the door.

Hindsight of course is 20-20, and so it’s clear to me now that Levia knew exactly the manner in which the children were “reasonably occupied.” Having discovered various bottles of Glitter (footnote #1), the children had turned our entire basement into a bad replica of a 1970s-style disco club, and Emery was so well covered in Glitter she looked like a large Christmas Tree Ornament.

(Needless to say, I still haven’t gotten all the glitter off the Basement Floor, or Emery, who still looks strangely sparkly three days later.)

As you can see, complying with the Rule (coupled with having a Shrewd Wife) back-fired, having landed me in perhaps the one situation that might be worse than having Kids at the Mall. At least we weren’t tempted to try the pictures with Santa.

(Footnote #1 – the label on the Glitter Bottles states that it is appropriate for children ages 3+.  That’s bull[____].  That [_____] isn’t appropriate at all.)