No riding toys in the kitchen.

No riding toys in the kitchen. A rule we’ve had at our house since Landon was 1.5 and rode his little red motorcycle around everywhere inside the house. It randomly ended up left in the kitchen every time we were cooking. After a few falls, the rule came forth and has stuck since.
This morning, my husband decided he was going to ride our son’s Razor Scooter, which we keep it in the house since we live out in the country and have a gravel driveway. He was zooming around the house with our puppy chasing him. She’d chase him, then he’d spin around chase her. It was all fun and games until my husband broke THE rule. The rule he has reminded our kids of millions of times.
I was unloading the dishwasher while the kids were on the couch watching sponge bob. As my husband zoomed into the kitchen, before I could say a word, he broke THE rule. As he sped from the living room into the kitchen, he decided to drift around like he was a professional driver of a Nissan GTR in a drift competition. You can guess what happened next.
As he drifted around, of course, he crashed, but this was no normal wipeout. This was the equivalent of an elephant belly flopping off the high dive. While standing at the dishwasher, it all unfolds. The scooter flew out from under him faster than Ussan Bolt leaves the starting line. I’m in tears of laughter before he ever hit the floor. The scooter landed on the opened dishwasher, while my husband, all 230 pounds of his blocky figure, splatters against the refrigerator and floor. I’m laughing so hard I can’t even check on him. Our poor dog is sitting at his side with her ears tucked back and a look of sheer terror on her face. When I finally get through the tears of laughter to check on him, I find out he didn’t think it was as funny as I did.
Moral of the story, follow the rules. 

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