Proof of Evolution

But lots of nights we forget.  And the morning after, we’re always woken by some report from The Older Kids:

“The middle boys got into half a bag of tortilla chips, and they smashed them all over their floor.”

“The middle boys took the whole three pound bag of apples and ate all of them.  Even the cores.”

“The middle boys got into a box of dried pasta.  And one of them didn’t make it to the bathroom last night.”

If it weren’t my pantry and rooms in my house, I’d think the whole thing fascinating and hilarious.  But since it is and they are, I don’t.

So the other morning, when The Older Kids didn’t come with their snitch report, we didn’t think anything of it.  Mostly because we were too busy “sleeping in” to the scandalous hour of 6:30.

But we paid for it.  Oh yes, we paid.

It started off with a low-level rumbling coming from Gabriel and The Jude’s room.   Then there was the scampering of feet from other rooms in the house.  Then the rumbling began to take on a certain pitch that roused me from my dozing just enough to hear Lotus screech with equal parts outrage and jubilation- “All the bananas?”  to which three boys responded triumphantly, “ALL THE BANANAS!

Oh sweet Baby Jesus, I’d left the five pounds of bananas on the kitchen counter last night.

Poof.

I groaned, rolled over, and flung my arm over my eyes dramatically.  Five pounds of bananas.  Gone.  Or, judging from the sound of the party going on in the middle boys’ room, very nearly gone.

The noise from that direction grew louder and louder, almost drowning out Lotus’ voice as she tried to boss the boys into submission and oversee banana consumption.   The two year old, who hasn’t figured out how to climb out of the crib yet, began to cry from the other room, aware he was being cut out of the Great Banana Binge of 2012.

From his side of the bed,  Ken stirred.  He sighed.  With a sleepy, groggy voice, he made the following observation:  “You know, I understand that Intelligent Design and Creationism are both valid theories, but listening to the sounds coming from that room is the best proof of Evolution we have.  I am absolutely certain if I went in there, I’d find them all naked, squatting in a circle, while the matriarch of the monkeymen clan doles out the bananas.”


At least they’re monkeymen who have met their daily recommended dosage of potassium.

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Cari Donaldson lives on a New England farm with her high school sweetheart, their six kids, and a menagerie of animals of varying usefulness. She is the author of Pope Awesome and Other Stories, and has a website for her farm, Ghost Fawn Homestead.

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