They are Good Boys

I have 3 boys ranging in age from 4 to 9. They are good boys. They do, however have a lot of energy and love to drive me crazy. I will say that some of the things that they do are unacceptable.

For example: They refuse to honor the family rule of 'no food downstairs'. I commonly find evidence of food usage downstairs. I'll find things like sucker sticks or gummys stuck in the carpet! I will also find candy wrappers or popcorn on the floor. This sort of lawless behavior makes me worry about the future of our nation.

I will also find video game controllers and games strewn in a haphazard manner all over the floor near the TV. Would it be so hard to just put it away neatly? Outrageous! In a similar manner socks are left all over the house and yard, and I will often find squirt guns (in the summer) outside on the lawn. Also, the downstairs couch cushions are rarely on the couch! I'll find them either spread throughout the basement, or sometimes arranged to make little forts. Come on! Put the cushions back when you're done!

They are also causing damage to my home. I will occasionally find small indentations in the wall near the area where the play blocks are stored. This is really just gateway behavior to full-on vandalism. What's next? Gang tags on their bedroom walls?

What may be the most antisocial behavior of all: Slamming the dang door! None of the houses around us have fences installed, so it turns our backyards into a large park. Unfortunately, my sons cannot stay in the 'park' or in the house. They are constantly migrating back and forth. Can they just close the dang door? No. They cannot. They either leave it swinging open, or slam it will all of the force in their small bodies. It feels like the house was hit by a wrecking ball. I know that it's going to do some sort of damage.

These are examples of the horrible behavior exhibited by my boys.

Now, let me give you some examples of the things that I did as a boy. (warning: my memories are suspect and should not be taken as actual occurances unless verified by my mother.)

As a small boy, I remember one bright day, thinking how hard it would be to walk the 10 feet down the hall to the bathroom. So I took a leak in the corner of my bedroom. It was stinky for a long time. I also remember sticking a half eaten sandwich behind the TV. The garbage can, just like the bathroom, is very difficult to reach. I found it months(years?) later dried into a fossil.

I put a metal jar lid upside down on the coffee table and lit something on fire in it. I let it burn for a while. It wasn't until I picked up the lid with pliers that I noticed that I'd burned a black circle into the top of the table.

Continuing the property damage theme, one day I was making a boomerang out of plywood. I set the uncut plywood on the picnic table in the backyard for support while cutting it. That plywood was very difficult to cut, but I really wanted a boomerang. After I finished my first cut, the raw plywood fell to the ground along with the corner of the table. I cut the corner off the picnic table! I finished making the boomerang, but I could never get it to come back when I threw it.

I did a bunch of other delinquent things that I won't list here. I'll mention just one more item- the worst thing that I remember doing. I found a large pile of leaves in the garage. Instead of sweeping them out into the driveway, I had another idea. I lit the pile on fire. (Yes, you may have noticed my youthful fascination with fire.) The pile of leaves was dry, so it quickly grew into what seemed to me to be an inferno. Don't forget that this was IN the garage. I was so frightened that the fire would spread to the house! I was able to put the fire out somehow but I wasn't able to hide the thick smoke that filled the house. Man, that was a bad one!

I am so glad that my boys are not like I was. I'm going to try to not get after them so much. I have a friend at the gym who just sent his last child out of the house. He is facing the empty nest and not liking what he sees. He told me last week that he really wishes that he wouldn't have yelled at his kids so much and been so hard on them. I get mad at my kids for such little things and it needs to stop.

I'm not sure why my Dad let me live to reach adulthood. I don't even really remember my parents getting mad at me for the crazy stuff I did. One consolation for my parents: my friends were much worse.