Maybe a house full of girls is just like mine, but I doubt it. Their combined age is 20, but the combined testosterone of my four boys has already reached Macho Man Randy Savage levels (Oooooooh Yeeeaaaaahh!). Poor Jeni.
Caedmon, Jeni, and I were finishing a nice lunch of grilled cheese and pretzels, chocolate chip cookies were baking and providing a soothing aromatherapy, and Jack was lost in a creative wonderland of paper and markers. It was serene, almost Mediterranean; but the Sirocco was moving down the hallway – Andrew and Toby, armed with cardboard box helmets, pin-balling toward the living room.
A new game was born in the man-sion this afternoon: Boxosaurus. When all twelve cookies were consumed (about twelve seconds after they left the oven), Jack donned Toby’s box helmet and the game was truly on. Like two cymbals in the hands of an uber-enthusiastic middle schooler, they crashed into one another over and over again.
Jeni had taken Caedmon down the hallway and I walked down to discuss a trip to Highlands. As we spoke I was rear ended by Boxosaurus Andrew and the sleeping matador stirred.
I stepped away from the door as Drewsie backpedaled for another charge. He ran at me full speed, ready to conquer Mt. Dad. As a firm believer in establishing a clear understanding of cause and effect relationships, I stepped to the side. My darling child crumbled into the wall and fell to the floor; he was laughing harder than I was.
The bull fighter routine continued with Jack and Andrew for roughly half a down more approaches. Like a drunken brawler, they threw themselves toward their mark only to find their mark had moved. Banging into walls, colliding into walls, and smashing into Caedmon’s wheelchair before Jeni insisted I was cruel and should grow up. She was right, so I threw a copy paper box over my own noggin and moved the ruckus into the master bedroom.
A few well-timed assaults from Boxosaurus Andrew and Jack found me laying against my bed being pummeled by cardboard. Caedmon had moved in to referee the bout, but before he could rule the K.O. – POP!
My eyes were closed, Jack was right in front of me. The last thing I felt was Andrew bouncing himself off my left shoulder.
I’m rubber, he’s heavy and free of inhibition,
what bounces off me, shatters body length mirrors.
(That’s how it goes, right?)
I opened my eyes to find Andrew lying against a once vertical mirror, now shaped like a taut bow and shattered like a car windshield after a crash. He was wide-eyed, not sure if he was hurt. I picked him up, placed him to my right, and assessed the situation. All the glass was still in the frame, save a few tiny pieces I quickly picked up. Knowing everyone was safe, the laughter began anew, my laughter. The boys were shell-shocked and headed back out into the living room. Jeni came in with that “I told you someone would get hurt, ya big clown” look on her face.
She was wrong though; nobody got hurt, and it wasn’t even close. Who hasn’t fallen through a five-feet tall mirror unscathed? It’s part of growing up, part of becoming a MAN!
Toby and I took the shattered mirror to the trash. Jeni made plans for a Wal*Mart trip for a replacement mirror. Caedmon, Andrew, and Jackson played Mario Kart on the Wii. And the boxes lay in wait for the next round of Boxosaurus.
The fun continued with Closet Money Bars.