Just checked my Primary Choristers Group emails--I love that group. I get lots of great ideas from them. I'm also periodically astounded by such stunners as a woman who made 30 fake buffalo chips from spray insulation and painted them brown as just PART of her plan to teach "Pioneer Children Sang as they Walked" ("I hid them around the room and the kids loved looking for them and putting them in their baskets!").
Okay, okay! I admit! I thought about trying it! But just for a minute.
New topic. Boys and knives. There's a relevant incident I could relate to get this topic rolling, but I think I might still be sworn to secrecy. Suffice it to say that I learned nearly thirty years ago that a boy in posession of a sharp knife is about five minutes away from doing something incredibly stupid. My nine year old boy who found himself in posession of a sharp kitchen knife used his five minutes to decide to cut up popsicle sticks. And when he got cut up himself, he discovered that he could reduce the pain in his finger by shaking it around violently while screaming his head off. By the time I got to the kitchen, it looked like the scene of a massacre. I immediately noticed the spattered blood all over the walls, floor, stairs, sink, cupboards, countertops, chairs, and table. Gradually I discovered that there was also blood on the whiteboard, desk, phone, phonebook, calendar, front door, doormats, stair railings, dog dish, mixer, refrigerator, doorbell, etc. The only blood-free items were, of course, the knife and the popsicle stick. It was a minor cut. Thank goodness for bandaids.
I also spent about a half an hour out on the deck with my five boys plus the dog. They were using the giant tennis ball slingshot (it's called "The Hyperdog") to shoot tennis balls as far up into the stratosphere as they possibly could. They all wanted a turn, but even more, they all wanted to just watch the balls go way, way up and come down. That's the problem with being the only female member of the Mumford Testosterone Club. I'm invited to the party, but I'll never really understand.
Still, there are benefits, and one of them--Cub Camp--starts tomorrow. I can't wait. It's all the fun of girls camp minus the drama and plus the sleep. It's one of those moments when I look around at the boys and think, "I bet I DID choose this. I'm SURE I did."
7 comments:
You should order a girl, if only for company. Someone said that you were going to stop blogging because no one left comments. I can't write clever comments, but your blogs nearly always leave me in tears (of either mirth or sentiment, and I and the world would be poorer without them.
Margo--do you think I need a waiver of confidentiality before I can confirm or deny?
Marie here. Add me to the "too lazy to get my own blog name club". I LOVE your blog, and look forward to the updates.
JB - I love reading about the mumf testosterone club. It always takes me back to days spent with Scott and Stu (which means you can look forward to your boys doing extensive modifications on fireworks sometime soon, though I'm sure they will be smarter than to do so with a dremmel tool).
Rather than comment here at length, I decided it would be better for me to post a bit about this subject on my own perpetually needy blog, thereby killing two birds with one stone.
Ryan has the opposite problem...he is surrounded by girls...he'll never get a chance to have a tennis ball throwing party....and as for knives...if he even looks at one he's got 3 tattletales screaming in protest.
OK - your grace period is over. In my opinion, end of organ boot camp = new blog time. Surely you have a pile of anecdotes at the ready...
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