Man oh man.
SEE, this is why we don't generally have state of the art *anything*, or artwork, or allow people to park precious whatnots with us.
This evening, Captain Adventure wheedled some cookies from me and settled in to watch TV with his sisters.
He set down his bag of cookies.
And Eldest picked them up.
Here is what I heard from the other room, where I was slicing up peaches and arranging the slices on the dehydrator racks:
"Heyyyyyyyyyy! Gimmie it those back at me!" shouted the Captain.
"They aren't YOURS you know, they're for Everyone!" replied the teen, followed swiftly by the sound of stuff hitting the floor, and this further gem from the big sister: "Hey, don't you hit ME, they AREN'T. ALL. YOURS!!!!!!"
There were then three squeals as I was rinsing peach juice off my hands and reaching for a towel...and then Danger Mouse ran into the kitchen, wide-eyed and said, "Captain is throwing things...he just threw the tape dispenser at the TV!"
For one wild moment, I thought *maybe* it was, you know, one of those light little disposable ones...
...no...heavy, sand-bottomed office-style...
...and yeah, the big, expensive flat screen is now useless, shattered, pathetically flashing as it tries to figure put what HAPPENED to it...
Sometimes, it seems to me that "good" parenting must perforce be defined very, VERY simply: I did not KILL any of my Denizens today.
I am an effin' GODDESS of maternal awesome, yo.