There was a NaBloPoMo prompt for today, but it didn't inspire me in the slightest. So, in its place, I tell the story of something that happened this morning that might be funny at some point.
One of the major rules in our house is that if any member of the family tells another one to stop doing something annoying, that person has to stop. Period. Another major rule of the house is that Thing One is not allowed to deliberately goad his (socially-challenged) little brother into fits of frustration and/or rage, despite the fact that this sort of thing is a favorite pastime of big brothers everywhere. Thing One had broken that latter rule twice yesterday evening alone, so my patience was a bit low going into this morning. And we all know that patience isn't my strong suit to begin with.
The kids were all eating breakfast in the kitchen. I was upstairs getting dressed and trying to get everything together for all the various activities of the day (running late, as usual) when Thing Two's yelling started, clearly audible through the floor from the kitchen below.
"Stop making faces at me right NOW!!"
There was a brief pause, much like the one that occurs when a child has really hurt themselves, the second of silence while they are drawing breath in that is generally followed by bloodcurdling screams. A significant sort of silence well known to all parents.
But this particular silence was followed by the voices of both boys urgently calling my name and no screams.
I ran downstairs two steps at a time and encountered Thing Two in my front hall. He was dripping orange juice from the neck of his shirt all the way down to his socks. A trail of wet footprints extended behind him all the way back to the kitchen table. (Apparently he'd inadvertently spilled his juice glass all over himself in his agitation.)
I threw him immediately into the shower, clothes and all, and scrambled to find him another set of soccer clothes for the camp this morning. Then I raced back down to the kitchen to discover juice splashed from here to China and Thing One trying (ineffectually) to clean it up, spreading the mess further in the process. I admit to growling GO. AWAY. at him through tightly gritted teeth, and I'm proud that I didn't say anything worse. He wisely fled to the safety of the basement playroom while I dug out paper towels, mop and bucket and cleaned up spill, table, chair, wet footprints and all at warp speed (did I mention that I'd already been running late before this happened??)
We squeaked into soccer camp on time (barely) but the car ride there was very, VERY quiet. Fortunately for my blood pressure and sanity, I had a taekwondo class immediately afterward. I walked into the dojo and asked the teacher if I could kick one of the big standing targets for a while!
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