Thank God for Rum!

I didn't have time to blog last night because I was too busy researching boarding schools for my three year old. After a nice cocktail or two or fifteen and a good night's sleep, I'm back to tell you about the wonderful day I had yesterday.

First, I must say that my kids have actually been very pleasant this summer. I've only heard "I'm bored" a couple of times, they've been getting along for the most part and they've done an admirable job helping me keep the house clean. All in all this summer has been swell. I knew it would all come crashing to an end soon, but I wasn't prepared for it yesterday. I think there were about ten minutes yesterday when there was no screaming, fighting, or crying. That left the other twenty-three hours and fifty minutes filled with a cacophony that could wake the dead.

The boys decided to take the mattresses off their beds. They proceeded to prop them up on the top bunk and "sled" down onto the floor. This fun game went on until I got wise and realized what they were doing. By then, they'd somehow managed to tear down the curtains and crack the window. It was one of the only windows in the house that's still glass; the others having been replaced by Plexi-glass. At this point I found myself thinking that it wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing if they broke a leg or two, as that would keep them sitting still in one place for a few weeks.

That isn't what had me upset though. What really sent me through the wall (funny I should use this term) is what my three year old did. He and my six year old were outside talking to our next door neighbor, a fifty-something year old man. My six year old loves to have tea parties with him and he dutifully, if less than happily, humors her.

So yesterday, both my three and my six year olds carried loads of play food and dishes outside and arranged them over at his house for the grand soiree. Meanwhile my neighbor ran to the store, leaving his garage open when he left. My three year old, Spaz, with Princess looking on, decided to hop up onto my neighbor's motorcycle. (Yes, this is the same kid who drove a golf cart into our camper.) Anyway, the motorcycle fell over and hit the snow blower which knocked a hole in the garage wall and scratched up the bike. Thankfully my son wasn't crushed beneath the bike.

I tried to keep in mind that he is only three and doesn't know any better. I should've known that he was over there, but I was playing tic tac toe with Boo and helping Nana sew a pillow and I didn't even realize those two were messing around in his garage until my neighbor came knocking on my door a little later.

Well the good news is that my neighbor is a very nice, understanding guy, Spaz is still alive and I still had some coconut mudslide left in the fridge. The bad news is that after all my researching last night, I've discovered that there are no boarding schools for three year olds. Someone get on that, will ya?