Bean funnies

September 14, 2011

by Jenny with assistance from Papa

Someone is beating on the back door. I look out the window. It’s Papa.

Papa: Open up.

Me: Say please.

Papa: White Russian.

I open the door.


Moose is a little germ factory. I have his cold. Hyacinth and Rooster have his cold. Jax is holding out on us right now. And Papa, who is psychosomatic, has his cold.

At 3 a.m. Monday, Papa wakes up freezing. He has the chills. He calls me from his cell phone (the Bean intercom system) to bring him blankets.

I stumble up the stairs with blankets and discover that Moose has been playing with the thermostat.

We have been Moosed.


Hell hath no fury like a Moose in a dentist chair.

I don’t think that sentence needs an explanation.


Me: Last night I was so tired that I couldn’t wash the dishes. Papa had to do them.

Mimi: I hope you rewashed them.

Me: Why?

Mimi: Papa washes dishes like he’s camping—he doesn’t know what a dishrag is and he doesn’t use soap—just his fingers and cold water.

And this is why I found myself cleaning out all of the cabinets and washing all of the dishes at Maison Bean on Sunday.


Moose is a walking contradiction. Despite my best efforts, he walks around like he’s been rolling in dirt and leaves, and his curls are stuck together because he puts peanut butter fingers in them. But he likes a clean house.

He’s so obsessed with Mimi’s Electrolux that she has to hide it. When I pull out my Dyson, he pulls out his Fisher Price lawnmower and pretends he’s vacuuming with me.*

The other night he spots a shredded paper towel on the floor courtesy of Rooster. Moose goes into the closet, pulls out a broom that’s three times his height and a dustpan, somehow manages to sweep up the mess and throw it in the trash, and then he returns the broom and dustpan to their proper place.

All the while, Papa, who is comfortable in his slothfulness, watches in fascination.

*I think this is a genetic trait inherited from 1909.  Jax did the same thing when he was 2.


The inconsiderate numbskull outside the house beeping his car horn turns out to be Moose in the living room playing with car key remote.


Moose will never get lost—he leaves a trail of raises, toys, shoes, toilet paper and dirt wherever he goes.


When everything freezes in the refrigerator, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that a two-year-old is involved.


When Papa’s alarm clock goes off at 2:26 a.m., he knows one or more of the little button pushers have been at work.


Finding a couch cushion in the garden or a roll of toilet paper in the bath tub is beginning to seem normal.



Because Maison Bean = Funny Farm.

{ 14 comments… read them below or add one }

Irene September 14, 2011 at 8:40 am

You are documenting all this so when they grow up you can embarrass them in front of their girlfriends.

You can’t do anything but laugh. You’re kids are precious!

Sandra September 14, 2011 at 9:05 am

I think the kid who vacuums could turn out to be an asset…either to you or Molly Maid. Depends if you’re hard up for cash…I kid! Of course I don’t condone child labour (much).

Pamela September 14, 2011 at 10:11 am

We have been Moosed is beginning to sound a lot like We have been Punked. The kid is gifted. Seriously. And cuuuutttteeeeeee……

Ally September 14, 2011 at 11:06 am

You describe a life that is never boring! That’s a positive, right? LOL

Jenn September 14, 2011 at 12:02 pm

Irene: I knew I was documenting it for a reason–I just couldn’t put my fingers on it!

Sandra: I condone child labor. It keeps them out of trouble!

Pamela: I shudder to think what his teenage years are going to be like! Good thing he’s cute!

Ally: I think so!

papa September 14, 2011 at 2:43 pm


I’m reading this post and notice the Google Ad for Nuts Online right next to your post. Is that weird or what?

How about when Mimi bought over the 6 boxes of Kleenex Tissues for the one she spoils the most when he had a cold? A few hours later I find them all pulled out of the boxes and thrown in the trash can. MOST had not been used. So I stuff them all back in the boxes and don’t tell ANYONE, especially Mimi.

Or the 12 pack of apples I got from Costco last year which disappeared in just a few hours. I was reminded of this one when I cleaned out under the office futon a few days ago.

You’re right. No way these kids got the clean up fetish from their mom.


Jenn September 14, 2011 at 3:19 pm

Papa: somehow I think I’ve just been insulted.

papa September 14, 2011 at 3:53 pm


You have been. Better talk to Google about those insulting ads.


Jenn September 14, 2011 at 4:53 pm


I’m looking at the sunny side–no more kilt ads (for now) or coffee bean ads. As you know, my wine glass is always at least half full, if not overflowing, and if for some reason, it isn’t, I’ve always got you to make me a margarita or a brandy alexander or a white Russian.

Bottoms up! Jenny

Betsy at Zen Mama September 14, 2011 at 6:35 pm

I’ll toast you all with my overflowing wine glass tonight! You remind me of the 3 little Henry boys wrestling like puppies and me calling the newly built family room “the room that saved my life”… close enough to hear if someone got hurt. Far enough not to hear anything else!!

Christine September 15, 2011 at 3:20 am

Thanks for sharing!
I’m just happy I’m not the only one living in a funny farm… I find that wine and cocktails help 🙂

Jenn September 16, 2011 at 12:39 am

Betsy: you paint a adorable picture! The little Henry puppies!

Papa: let’s build us a family room!

Christine: no, sister, you’re not the only one of the funny farm! And you are so right about those libations!

The Pepperrific Life September 18, 2011 at 7:58 am

The Beans are just too funny. You should start your own reality TV show 🙂

S.I.F. September 18, 2011 at 7:51 pm

Cracking up! I love the Bean home!

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