The good Lord has chosen to bless me with 3 little boys that aren't so little anymore. They started out so small and helpless...like wee little things...like puppies or kittens...so innocent at first. So quickly they grow on you and become your whole life. I think the process starts when they come shootin' outta there (oh the pain!). As soon as they cut the unbilical and lay them on your stomach...something else from them attaches itself to your heart. Forever you become bound to them...I have found as time has went on, that little boys are such strange, peculiar creatures. This is well documented among the anals of motherly memories that I have compared with other mom's and grandmother's. The stories abound; from my grandfather and uncles...clear down to my brother and fathers (yes I have 2). What does God put in a man (or my precious little boys) that brings forth the element of risk, danger and adventure? Why do all boys(and men) find certain things so interesting and funny?? I can cite numerous examples:
Any bodily noise is funny; the louder it is and if it is in public, and the more people watching...the funnier it is. Then the blame games starts as to who really did it...and why do they always try and point and blame at me as I slink away and shake my head to the people in the mall, or Perkins, or Lowe's and claim or pretend that I don't know them?
Absolutely anything (and I mean anything) can be turned into or used as a weapon. Matches, lighters, gasoline...anything that contributes to or makes a fire or makes it bigger illicits excitement proportionate to the size of the fire or potential fire before your mother takes away the matches and flammable materials. Fireworks, specifically M80's, are fun to throw from the second story window down on to the deck where you parent's and their friends are sitting and relaxing. No matter that you wait to throw the M80 as the fuse gets close to the end and it bounces off your father's shoulder before it hits the deck and explodes at his feet. And as if the snickering from the upstairs window didn't give you away! (And all I can think of is thank you GOD, that they didn't blow off their fingers or put out an eye!)
Slapping and hitting contests are fun. Wrestling is great fun...especially if there is blood involved from noses, teeth, scraped off scabs, fingernails...whatever...blood is cool!...Banging heads together is fun....until later when you have a headache and throw up. I have watched them all wrestle with their father and uncles and make grown men curl up in the fetal position and cry like a baby after they have accidentially applied a sudden blow where it wasn't meant to be applied. I watch from afar (usually the safety of the couch) and wonder where this comes from and ponder it all in my heart. (Usually thinking...they are crazy! How can all that sweating, grunting, groaning, pain and occasional blood be fun?)
Case in point...we have a hot tub. We all LOVE the hot tub. I think God blessed mankind with the gift of the hot tub invention just for me. Anyway, my sons spend every morning before school in the hot tub (and no, I don't let them substitute this for the bath...those they have to do at night). They play in the hot tub and devise all kinds of methodical plans for making the hot tub (which I always considered a relatively SAFE place for them to be) a place for fun, risk, adventure, etc. However, one morning at 7am, I step out on the deck to check on my sons in the hot tub. Hot tub is going...water everywhere...but no little boys. All of a sudden I hear voices. I look to see 3 little boys,(with no clothes mind you), climbing up the ladder at the back of the camper and hear the oldest talking about how this will all work if they can jump far enough out. My fear factor goes into overdrive (Danger Will Robinson Danger!!) as I look around and discover that they have pulled the trampoline inbetween the hot tub and the camper. It dawns on me...THE PLAN....I can see it plain as day...A jump from the top of the camper to the trampoline should launch them out high enough and far enough to land INSIDE the hot tub. Common sense...which no little boys or teenagers, or young adults for that matter possess; does not kick in that between the camper and tramp: 10 feet (hmmm...maybe could make that one): between the tramp and the hot tub....50 to 60 feet (nope...ain't guna happen!) just isn't enough using the laws of physics to propel them into the hot tub!.....My motherly brain screams danger! They will not make it! (Part of me says, "Ingeneious that they put this all together in the first place"...for a split second I am so proud!) Then reality snaps me back! I fly back into the house from the deck and put on my bathrobe and run out the door, across the deck and down to the camper to shut down the whole thing just as the oldest is getting up his nerve to jump in all his glory (if ya know what I mean!).....
"Aw mom, do you haveta ruin all our fun?" says the oldest and wisest of the 3. Dirty looks come flying down from the top of the camper from the other 2.
"Yep," I say, "That is specifically the ONLY reason that God has put me on this earth...to ruin all your fun. Not to feed you, clothe you, keep you out of danger...." Here I pause for the full effect. "Now get down from the camper...and go in and tell your father what you were planning to do...."
"But mom!" says my oldest.
"No buts!" I say. Relief is all I can feel as I have once again been the hero in my own mind and averted disaster and cheated death for the lives of my sons....maybe...at least this time. Good thing I have life insurance on them....and pray the Good Lord's protection around them every night...I go inside and tell my hubby, "Really. Save their college funds for me....for hair color and therapy... I am positive I am going to need it!"
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