" You want your busy bee?"

"It's in the crate, it's in the crate!"

"It's not in there. It's not in there!!"

"Go get Busy Bee! Go back to the hotel and get Busy Bee!"

As I sat Thanksgiving morning and watched bits and pieces of the Westminster Dog Show, I giggled with glee. Pomp and circumstance! Prancing and dancing! Crisp walks, heel to toe or nose to tail. I thought to myself, I need to watch Best in Show tonight. Hard not to like Christopher Guest and company.

Fast forward approx two hours.

Me: "Where is his puppy? No, the blue one, not the small one."
Husband: " I don't know. I saw it upstairs yesterday."
Silas: Sob. Sob. Yell. Yell. Pout. Pout.
Me: ( now yelling) " Well, go find it. NOW! He has gone off the deep end and if he doesn't get some sort of sleep today, there is no way we are going to make it to _______ or ________ or _________."
Husband: ( now yelling) " FINE. I don't know where his puppy is. You do it. You find it. YOU GET PUPPY. "
Silas: Sits on toilet watching us.Smugly.

Hmm.

I am pretty sure I have gone 'Busy Bee' on my husband or vice versa a dozen times over the past several years; Thanksgiving was yet another example where we lost our collective shit over a stuffed puppy.

Child: 1 Adult: 0.

We have gone on all out manhunts for my daughter's diaper doo. Yep, diaper doo as in Scooby Doo. Her beloved lovey is in shreds, smells like feet, and would be in a shrine if Carly had her way. And it is always missing two minutes before lights out and bedtime.( Of course) She can't sleep without it. ( Well played) She watches me explode. (Tsk, tsk)

Augh. It's funny after the fact. Only after the fact. When you are in it, you know you shouldn't be playing games. Who is the adult? Who is in charge? The sun will come up tomorrow if they don't have their puppy or doll or bunny. And yet....and yet. You do it again the next night because you need to do laundry, or work, or you just want kid time to be over.

Child:2 Adult: 0

Most days we don't get reeled in. We don't take the bait. We play one step ahead. Other days, we are at their mercy, crawling behind couches, looking in backpacks and behind beds. To satiate. To calm. To quell. To have silence.

And, like Beatrice, the Weimaraner in Best in Show, the kids just look at us with doe-like eyes, unblinking, unfaltering. Speaking, but without words--

I win. Again.

Want to watch the 'Busy Bee' clip? http://youtu.be/rARKAStGRy8