Destruction 365... burning rubber gets new meaning

I often wonder what made me decide that I would be a good parent. Essentially, I am an excessively selfish and lazy creature, though contradictory to this, I am ambitious and daring. Neither of these things are really applicable to parenting. Despite my self centered nature, I found myself expecting my first child. Then my second. Then my third. Then my fourth. Then my fifth. And, despite knowing better, plan on a sixth any time after 2010. This is what I meant when I said that C's sadistic tendencies are possibly genetic. Only a sadist would take not one, but two chances after seeing how C is developing. Contrary to what one might think reading this blog, our elder children are nothing like C at all. Sure, they have their moments, but all of them could be left in a room with that Big Red Button that destroys the planet and they wouldn't get near it, if you told them [once] not to. C, however, would not only press the Big Red Button [repeatedly with the hope of setting off as many nukes as possible], he'd somehow find a way out of that room and into the room that controls the worlds satellites and proceed to send them crashing to the earth. I'm sure he'd also inadvertently find a way to contact and subsequently annihilate all forms of alien life, as well.

Today, though, he's making do with tossing the house. This one was my fault. You see, I thought that he was sleeping. Hah. I thought that I had a moment that I could go outside with UNIX and let him run around our crappily fenced back yard [just wasn't feeling like driving to the dog park today...] And oh, UNIX enjoyed himself. I would let him out there more often, but as I said, the fence sucks. After a quick paw wiping session, we walked in the door.

...I wanted to walk back out again. C was quite pleased with himself. I do believe he thought that he was... helping. I suppose the laundry looked better on the floor and, this way, mommy wouldn't have to fold it, right? No, but now I'm likely going to have to rewash it... sigh.

Moving along, as if it wasn't enough to have to basically redo the laundry I've done [which, unfortunately, I didn't get pictures of] C was being most cooperative and helpful for the remainder of the day. He helped get dinner in the crock-pot [spaghetti--with my own modifications--Yum] and was playing happily with his little brother on the floor. I was instantly lulled by the peace within the house and--mistakenly--let my guard down.

Big mistake.

Now, candles are pretty commonplace in our home. Have been since before I was a mother and in the almost-twelve-years since becoming one. None of our kids--C included--have ever bothered with them or even really shown the slightest interest in them, lit or otherwise. Today, however, C notices the lull in the atmosphere and--as he is wont to do--takes advantage of it.

Now, C sits at the table and draws [on paper, usually, though our chairs have su.fered and, of course, the laptop screen was a recent casualty] Today, he took part of a toy car that he'd gotten on one of our extremely rare trips to Burger King. I thought nothing of it, nor did I think anything of the fact that there were lit candles on the table [as I've mentioned, even he has never gone near candles, before...] I happily go about my day, sitting at S' laptop, nursing A, checking out the Internet Drama to get my recommended daily allowance of... and I smell something... burning.

Instantly, I lean forward, detaching A in the process [which, I assure you, he is not happy about] and smell the laptop, wondering if there was, perhaps, a short in it. Because it smells vaguely of burnt electronics... hard plastic and metallic. The laptop, though, smells fine. However, C is now walking toward me, looking guilty and slightly afraid. I can't imagine why--I had just looked over at him a millisecond ago, immediately after I checked on the laptop and he was sitting there quietly with the pen in his hand.

Then, I realized that the chair back was blocking the candle from view.

Then, I realized that he no longer had his car.

This all happened quite instantaneously. There was no pause. I got up quickly and saw this toy car, sitting on top of that candle.

On fire.

Obviously, I didn't pause to take a picture. I figured the benefit of having such a splendid picture didn't quite outweigh the negative aspects living in a burnt out shell of a house would have. Plus, honestly, we don't have Renter's Insurance and I don't really know how we'd go about covering a replacement house.

So I quickly grabbed the car [probably a stupid move, looking back on it] and blew on it, trying to get the fire out. Luckily, I'm so full of hot air that this was successful and my hands didn't burn. I quickly tossed the smoking car into the sink which, luckily, had a large metal bowl full of water in it. Thank goodness I wasn't caught up on dishes, eh?

Needless to say, there are no candles lit in our home any longer. At least, not when C is awake...