I Have The Monopoly on Crazy. And Winning. Eat it, Charlie Sheen.

It's March Break here in the land of Canadia.  We've already had the "one-day-in March" where it's beautiful, Spring-like and all Canadians rush out into the streets while pulling off layer after layer until we're mostly buck-nekked, and then we've all got The Pneumonia until Actual Spring sometime after May 2-4 weekend.

We spent the weekend gutting the basement instead of being outside mostly-naked. I've managed to destroy my sinuses so Mother Nature counts that as a win regardless. I'm not being glib in using the phrase 'gutting the basement,' either. What looked like a fire-sale at the local toy shop now looks more like the neighbourhood home daycare.  I may have gone a little overboard when Kiddo #1 was born. How does one say no to the amazing deals on American Craigslist, though? It's probably best we moved away lest we become the next episode of Hoarders: Wooden Toys Edition.

And, of course, through it all, the children were endlessly amused by the "new" toys they kept finding after I sorted them, dusted off the cobwebs and put them in the right place again. In fact, when Kiddo #1's BFF came over and they headed toward the basement to play, I muffled my screams of terror and let them go down.  It only took upwards of 4 hours and 3 garbage bags to SEE the floor of the toy room, but sure, the kids could play down there.

KERN GERS WID BERNERNERS NOD WERDERMERLERN! ERMAGHERD!

Within minutes, there were 7 dress-up costumes on the floor, 3 pairs of wings, 2 tutus and 1 fireman hose. Wait, that grey squiggly tube isn't a fireman hose. It's my frickin' BRAIN that has exploded at the instant catastrophe that is basement!

Kiddo's BFF:  What's that sound? Are you gargling?
Kiddo #1: Nope. That's my mom. She's having apoplexy over the toy room.
Kiddo's BFF: Oh. ... A what?
Kiddo #1: It's kinda like a brain aneurysm only cuz she's super mad.

Wow.
They cover a lot of cool shit on Dora The Explorer.
Way to go, Treehouse Network!

But when the bitches didn't properly colour sort the damn fake fruit and veggies into their appropriate bins, I swallowed the rage, smiled, put everything back in its place (in a huff, with swears spoken under my breath) and vowed they would be taught a lesson.

Out came Monopoly Jr.
Oh yes, Monopoly Jr.
Ain't nobody gonna forget to sort the damn fruit EVER again.

Those are some white teeth, smiley psychopath. 

Smiling, like Clay Morrow just before he kills his friends, I said, "Girls! Let's play a new game you've never played before!"  Excited to do something new, they laughed and giggled and stomped their way over to the kitchen table.  30 minutes before dinner is ready? Damn right.

We got each girl set-up with their car token (Monopoly knows everyone loves the car best so the Junior version has ONLY cars) and began sorting the cash.  Husband felt the sonic boom as I laid the coloured money out, came upstairs, whimpered and retreated with the boy to watch Thomas The Train movies and nervously sweat.  Husband's only played me twice, and never since we got married. Like so many other things, Monopoly was only played in the 'courting' stage of our relationship; once married, that game went the way of the blowjob.  Er, dodo bird. I mean dodo bird.

Monopoly Jr breakdown: Players get "allowance" with which they can purchase "ticket windows" to set up in front of various amusement park attractions.  When friends land on the purchased square, they owe the ticket window the preset amount so they can "play" that game/ride whatever.  It's a cute concept, weak on ruthlessness, but a good intro to business, nonetheless.

We counted, we bought ticket booths turned over Chance cards and had a wonderful time. And at 29 minutes in, Kiddo #1's BFF looked bored.  Sensing I could break her, I leaned in for the kill.

Me: What's wrong, Priscilla?
Kiddo's BFF: (long, drawn out sigh)  Nothing. I'm just kinda... bored.
Me: No, that's impossible.  There's no way you're bored unless you're LOSING.
Kiddo #1: Well, Mom, it kinda looks like we're done. All the games have ticket windows.
Kiddo's BFF: Yeah. There's nothing left to buy.
Me: (shooting a death glance at my kid) Seriously, Kiddo #1, that MUST be your FATHER coming out in you. As for you, Pussy (shooting death glance at other kid) all I see is that it DOES look like your money pile is pretty short.
Kiddo's BFF: Uh, it's Prissy.
Me: Oops. Sorry.
Kiddo #1: Well, Mom, maybe we could play something else?
Me: What? Are you losing TOO?  Too bad you two can't just have FUN playing the FUNNEST game on EARTH! WIENERS!

Luckily, the two girls passed out before I completely lost control of myself. I just am so amazing at Monopoly: Annihilation that I forget sometimes that they don't need to have their egos stomped into  itty bitty crumbs to remind them how amazing I am.  Frankly, the subliminal recordings I put on their iPods while they sleep off the Roofies (only half each-- they're little girls after all) will teach them on a whole new level. Plus, I had to distract them from my sticky fingers as the Whore Banker.

In the meantime, I got to finish the game, WIN, get the play food re-sorted and have time to write up my amazing parenting tips for you, gentle reader. I know, I know-- I am pretty awesome; you think so and you don't even have my voice on your iPod telling you to say that, so I know it's true!

Don't you wish your girlfriend was hott like me?