This afternoon, I was taking a quick “quiet time” on the couch when Henry ambled over and crawled up next to me.
“Can you make sure nobody eats the last donut,” he sweetly asked. Henry is currently in the magical throes of an intense love affair with donuts, not just any donuts but “blazed donuts.” I love making him say it (sometimes as many as three and four times in a row — “what was that? What kind did you say?” “Blazed. I’d like a blazed donut.”).
So today I had to teach him one of the most important life lessons that a fella with four older brothers can learn, which is ALWAYS HIDE YOUR FOOD.
Just briefly, without revealing too many of my own hiding spots, I gave him a few hints about the best place to store the last blazed donut. My current favorite spot? The warming drawer.
Alas, Henry didn’t move fast enough (poor bloke wasted a few seconds on a sneeze) and the donut was no longer available to hide. I feel bad about that, really I do.
Later on, the boys were watching an Arnold Swarzzenagor (ha! butchered that so bad I’m keeping it) movie and I asked what one it was.
“This one’s called ‘Commando’,” said Charlie.
To which Henry replied, “hey, I thought that’s when you go without underwear.”
So really, he’s learning at an above-average rate.
I’ve gotten a few requests to write a bit more about life with middle school boys and teenagers and I will (eventually, but before I feel like I’m an expert because that might be oh, never). But today has been a good today but still not without it’s constant need for me to constantly stand my ground about little things like heaving sighs and that sort of thing. And really even just tone. As in, “what would be a better way for you to ask if you could please have another dozen eggs for breakfast?”
So Paul called this afternoon to tell me he has to take a big day trip tomorrow to the big immigration jail where he has a client. And I had this lightbulb moment that the middle school boys would be perfect travel mates for that day trip. Nothing like a little visit to the state pen to put things in perspective. Maybe putting your laundry away isn’t the worst personal affront in all the land afterall, eh?
(Does that make me mean? Oh good, I’m glad to know!)
(and no, they won’t be actually going inside a jail cell or anything. I probably should have explained that and now there’s a certain middle school boy in my home who is FREAKING OUT about how he isn’t going to jail, no way is he gonna go and risk getting shanked. So maybe our choice of Chuck Norris movies is a tad counter-productive.)