"Boys are found everywhere—on top of, underneath, inside of, climbing on, swinging from, running around or jumping to. Mothers love them, little girls hate them, older sisters and brothers tolerate them, adults ignore them and Heaven protects them. A boy is Truth with dirt on its face, Beauty with a cut on its finger, Wisdom with bubble gum in its hair
and the Hope of the future with a frog in its pocket."
Author: Alan Beck

Monday, March 12, 2012


Dear Alexander,

I can relate.

Though I didn't wake up to find gum in my hair, I did find some mushed into my carpet.  Does that count?

This morning, while my boys happily munched on bowls of breakfast cereal that was coated with cinnamon sugar goodness, I munched on oatmeal that was sprinkled with dried cranberries.

And though no marble went down the bathtub drain, I did stumble upon two naughty boys trying to flush a penny down the potty. 

My day was shaping up to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

Remember those blue shoes with red stripes you longed for?  I saw a similar pair at Target today that made me swoon.  Like you, I walked out without them.

As if leaving my beloved shoes behind wasn't enough, my phone slipped out of my hand and shattered in the parking lot of the aforementioned store.

I know you're young, Alexander, and like my boys, you probably have little sense of value when it comes to possessions.  But trust me on this one; my phone is worth much more than the stinkin' marble you lost down the drain.

Warranty?  No longer covered.

Upgrade?  Not eligible til June.

I could tell that this was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

After dropping Jack off at kindergarten, Logan and Wes decided to sprint to the top of the infamous 'hill' that sits in front of the school.  I encouraged their joyful operation as I took a few seconds to take a deep breath and feel the warm sun on my face.  When I noticed that their sprints had turned into a quest for dirt, I called them to the car.  They stood up, brushed their pants, and ran full speed down the hill. 

It wasn't until I began to buckle Logan that I noticed the reddish/brown hue of his gray sweat pants.

And it wasn't until I was about to shut the car door that I noticed the reddish/brown hue was moving. 

By moving, I mean crawling.

Ants.  That's right.  Big, fat red ones....mixed with brown dirt.

My boy done sat himself right in the thick of an ant hill.  Lucky me.

No doubt about it, this has been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

And though you'd be happier in Australia Alexander, I'm not brave enough to dwell within the boundaries of funnel-web territory.

Knowing that some days are like this, I'm counting my blessings, and wishing for happier times tomorrow.

As far as how the rest of the evening will play out, it's comforting to know that I can control the following:

-There shall be no kissing on TV.
-The lima beans which had previously been planned to accompany dinner this evening have been rescheduled for a later date.
-I have never allowed marbles in the bathtub and I won't start tonight.
-I don't own railroad train pajamas, a Mickey Mouse nightlight....or a cat.

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