I recently wrote a blog – Boys Wearing us Out – discussing some rather horrifying activities our lads were getting up to in the early hours of the morning – e.g. cutting electrical wires with nail scissors and starting fires in their bedroom. We took some measures after that, but our little guys continue to delight and horrify us.
Setting the stage. It was an early Sunday morning and Steve was on wake-up duty – he usually is. The boys were exceptionally quiet when they decided on their program of activities for the morning and we didn’t hear them moving around the apartment. Steve leaps out of bed around 7.30am and what does he find? The boys in the kitchen with our biggest, sharpest knife – see below. What were they doing?
Upon exploration and discussion, it turns out Lex decided he needed to take some action. You see, our current car had these little shades above the windows – the sort designed to stop rain coming in when the window is opened slightly. The problem with these shades is it means we can’t clip things to the car – “things” include bunny ears at Easter, bat wings during Halloween, and of course, reindeer antlers for Christmas. Lex was pissed when he realized it wasn’t happening at Easter, then even more pissed when Halloween was off the cards, but he wasn’t going to stand by and let it happen again this Christmas.
As a side note, I was DELIGHTED when I realized we couldn’t put these poxy things on our car, because Steve takes great pleasure in buying them every chance he gets, knowing how much I hate them. Driving around with those things makes me squirm with embarrassment.
Anyhoo, this fine, early Sunday morning, the boys took that big knife, went down into the basement car park, climbed on the car and used the knife to hack the plastic shades off. I couldn’t believe it and was expecting thousands of dollars’ worth of damage, but thankfully, all that was left behind was a few broken bits of plastic, and glue that you could peel off.
So the damage wasn’t going to be a costly exercise – phew – but the thought of the boys undertaking this project, unsupervised, with such a sharp knife, and not chopping fingers or hands off in the process, left Steve and I numb. Why, why, why we ask ourselves, and while I often wonder how I got through my childhood alive, I equally wonder the same for my little dudes.
BLOODY KIDS I TELL YA!
Now if you would like to tell me how your kids are crazier than mine, please do include the hashtag #mykidsrcrazierthanyours and let me know? It would be great to know I’m not alone…
Yours, without the bollocks