My oldest son was a Heimlich maneuver away from a possible homicide charge. The weapon? - inducing laughter with a really lame joke /really stuuupid statement while his brother had a mouth full of blue Kool-Aid.
Dinnertime with three young boys can be extremely challenging. In addition to having to be a short order cook ( if you consider microwave meals or pizza to be cooking ), I also have to be a Peace Officer. As the boys have gotten older, they have learned how to use the microwave themselves and are not supervised as closely. These lapses of policing provide opportunities for the boys to get out of control.
It starts with a slightly silly comment or joke and before you know it my three little monkeys get spun out of control. All it takes is a silly look or word to induce raucous laughter. It is all in the delivery! At this point either glasses full of liquid get spilled or food gets spewed across the table signaling the end of dinner with no hope of dessert.
This past week, dinner started out much the same. Food was set out, boys seated, Dad was in the basement on his computer and Mom retreated to her "quiet room" *. The giggling started and before I knew it I heard laughter followed by a big thud.
"Alex!!!Alex!!! Are you alright?!!!" my oldest and baddest boy yelled to his brother. As both my husband and I came running, my middle child was on the floor choking with his big brother slapping him on the back.
Apparently as Alex was taking a big gulp of Kool-Aid, his brother made him laugh. " Boogers are tasty!" was the lethal joke. Unable to swallow and fearful of spraying the room with blue liquid, he fell to the floor choking. He somehow managed not to spit out any of his drink. After coughing and gasping for what seemed like an eternity, he regained his breath.
Blame and punishments were doled out. I was in trouble for not keeping watch; dessert and after dinner television were cancelled for that evening. My youngest son refers this event as " the time Devon almost killed Alex".
So now you will believe me when I tell you dinnertime at our house can be murder.
* my "quiet room" is what I started calling the living room after I got a new comfy "shabby chic" sofa group. The boys were allowed to jump on and pull apart Dad's to make sofa forts but not with in my quiet room with my new furniture!
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1 comment:
Fantastic. I see this kind of thing in our future. They are curretnly 2 and 4 and come pretty close to killing eachother on a regular basis.
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