Apparently the activity of choice once the tv goes off (and Mom goes out to the back yard) is to spray a hose into Mom's piano room through the window. I've never been so close to murdering a couple of six year-olds before in my life. Water pouring through the floor into the basement. Luckily my piano seems to have somehow miraculously escaped the majority of the water. Only my sheet music appears to be damaged. Give me a year, and if my piano survives, I'll probably laugh.
It is amazing how after
screaming and yelling, and spanking and banishing kids to their rooms,
and crying and fuming, once I surveyed the damage, forgave the little
bugers, hugged them until they stopped crying, and told them that I love
them, it's amazing how much better it feels to forgive than to fume.
Storytime: Breaking Bones - When I was in third grade, I wanted nothing more than to break a bone. I didn't care if it was a foot, leg, wrist, or arm--I just wanted an injury that wou...
2 months ago