The Enemy Within

I am the mother of 3 small children - ages 7, 2, and 9 months. They are adorable to look at - my husband always says that the world would be a more beautiful place if we kept having children. He says that because he's a man, and therefore - having not gone through the child birth experience - doesn't know what the hell he is talking about. And, with his low threshold for pain, the world would be a less populated place if he were to birth our offspring. Besides, even if his theory were true, the world might be a more beautiful place with one hip-widening, belly flabbiness exception - me! After three children, my once athletic body is headed for early retirement. Jenny Craig has her work cut out for her.

It was while I was looking in the mirror one day and contemplating the miracles of liposuction, that I came up with my very own conspiracy theory - What if children are a secret terrorist plot to destoy society? Now I know this is not a politically correct statement to make - after all, we are talking about children - cute, adorable, fun-loving children. But that's what makes it so perfect - nobody would ever suspect them! I started imagining what the planning meetings for this devious plot would sound like. I also imagined that the terrorists would have cheesy French accents - I don't know why:

Okay, first we will weaken ze bodies of ze unsuspecting pregnant females by giving zem swollen ankles, hemeroids, and ze wimpy bladders zat will keep zem in ze toilet every ten minutes or peeing a little on zemselves when ze laugh - (insert evil laugh here - HA, HA, HA, HA!)

Next, we will deprive zem of ze sleep by instructing our infant agents (via a secret code transmitted through ze baby monitor) to wake up every 2 hours with ze loud crying. If ze parents start to zuspect anyzing, ze babies will diztract zem with ze spit-up and ze poo-poo. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE! (insert evil laugh here - HA,HA, HA, HA!)

Next, I imagined the instructions given to the tiny toddler terrorists:

Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to wreak havoc in ze lives of your parents. Your voice will always be loud. Your main weapon will be dirt - spread it everywhere ezpecially on ze walls and ze newly shampooed carpets. Rezist naps - zis iz zer only way to control you. If ze try to restrain you, you can use one of ze two methods of defense - ze wet noodle if zey try to pick you up, and ze ironing board if ze try to make you sit in ze car seat. Cuteness will be your cover. Your code name is Schnooky Poo.

Of course, we parents are not without our own ways to counter-attack our pint-size terrorist plotters. We can deploy the verbal machine gun whenever our toddler terrorist is about to touch something or someone they shouldn't - "No-no-no-no-no-no-no-no!"
There's solitary confinement - "TIME OUT! Go To Your Room!"
And the old tried and true method of appealing to their weakness - Sugar. "If you're good in the store, Mommy will buy you a lollipop the size of your head!"

Now, I must go. I just found my should-be-napping 2-year-old in her crib with all her clothes off - "Look Mommy - I nakey!".......I think I've been infiltrated.