In Another's Shoes

I have become abysmally negligent of this blog. Whenever my thoughts flitted over it's existence during the last month, I simply excused my care with the mantra "it's the holidays!" I intend to do some storytelling and picture posting from our holidays, which I will do in the very near future. But I made it a goal to post tonight, so post I will--until Jared gets back from the Redbox.
Lindsey has instigated a new game in our family. We have played it two or three times now in as many days. It begins by Lindsey telling me that I am not Mom, but that SHE is Mom. Thus, my "gentle words of guidance" to pick up the toys, cannot be adhered to at this time. The question then arises: "then who am I?" Well, I'm told, I am Lindsey, and Afton is Dallin, and Dallin is Dad and Dad is Davey, and Davey is Afton.
The game changes everyone and everything around here. Dallin (Afton) gets to ask Mom (Lindsey) if she can have more juice before dinner, and Lindsey (me) has to ask Mom (Lindsey) if she can "help" cook the beef.
The game lingered on for over an hour last night. And what was the result? Davey working until late and missing dinner. Afton making a mess of her vegetables all over her face and the kitchen floor. Dad complaining that he had to do homework (coloring the matching pictures can be rough at times). Lindsey giving a bath to Mom and Dallin while Afton stood gripping the edge of the tub, bobbing her head up and down until it was her turn. And Davey returning home from work to be corrected numerous times on what names to call whom, until just after he had them secured--at which point the game was abruptly declared adjourned until Lindsey's whim reopens the chaos next time.
Now, if that doesn't make your head spin, go read The Fox in Socks for YOUR bedtime story five times fast.