Today is a rainy, cool, September morning. One of those morning where, when you wake up and hear it’s raining, you feel perfectly content to stay in bed for the entire day. It’s also one of those days where you feel as if you could be extremely productive doing one of those long put-off projects such as organizing photos or cleaning out closets. You can’t go outside, so the options are limited. Apparently, this type of weather tends to bring out the ultimate creative instincts in my boys. Although this day makes me feel like a lazy pile, I also realize (now, anyway) that these are the types of days where I have to be extremely vigilant.
Case in point: Last week, we had a day much like today. The boys were watching one of their boy-type shows on TV, and I planned to soak in the tub for awile and wash away the stress of the day. So I soak, and listen to my iPod, and feel much better about 1/2 hour later. When I get out, however, I hear a strange squeaking sound coming from outside. It sounded as if someone were washing my windows using long, straight strokes. When I wrapped a towel around me, and stepped into the living room, I became painfully aware of where that squeaking sound was coming from. My boys, apparently in the mood for sledding, were climbing up the back of their dad’s car, walking over the top, and then sliding down the windshield and the hood of the car. In the rain. With their jeans on.
The damage to the car was minimal, a small scratch on the hood, but could not get over what kind of brain process occurs to create a pasttime like that.
Case in point #2: Because this event still scares the bejeezus out of me to think about, I’ll keep this one short and sweet. It involved my brand new Henckels knives and a pirate game. To this day I have no idea how they did not stab themselves or each other, since the furniture in the basement was sliced and nicked all over the place.
Today is a rainy September morning, much the same kind of weather that spurred the car-sledding episode of last week. I’m alert, though, and ready for whatever games these two can conjure up in their little freakish minds. I learn. Rather slowly, it appears, but I do learn.