So I do the whole "look at me...We. Are. Late." This has to be carried out with the greatest of care because if it is too emotional, he will burst into tears and then we will be even later.
The ladies working the cross walk at school have gotten to the point that they cheer when we are on time.
Not. Even. Joking.
But the best, the BEST reason we have been late to school lately is this jewel of a story....
Some well meaning teacher at Word of Life gave S4 an airplane. You know whose cheap ones you buy flat and then slide the pieces into? They are sorta made of foam? Those.
Sorta like this but not this one - thanks Google Image.
They were ready for school early (SHOCK!) and had run outside to play. Because it was a work day for me, I was still flying around getting ready. S4 brought out his little airplane and S2 had a brilliant plan.
I'll let you pause a moment to think about what could possible be a brilliant idea.......…
Our kitchen on the house is a lean to built on ancient million years ago. Our entire house was built so long ago that it doesn't have year — seriously. And at some point they added the lean to kitchen. The roof dips low and that roof had caught S2's eye.
"Let's fly the airplane over the kitchen. It will look SO cool!" he suggested.
Since S2 has the best football throwing arm of the three of them, S2 threw the airplane.
It landed on the roof.
And it did not fly off.
S4 burst into tears. S2 knew he was going to be in trouble for this one so he thought up a brilliant idea. Hockey sticks are long and have a sorta hook on them...hockey sticks could get this airplane down.
Meanwhile, I am in the house thinking they are being so super good getting ready for school. Imagine my surprise when I heard THUMP on the roof.
Do you think I could pull those boys away from rescuing the airplane? No. We ran to classes explaining that they had tried to get an airplane off the roof with hockey sticks and everyone stared at us for a moment and then just laughed because that pretty much figures with us.
That night I had forgotten about the hockey stick and airplane incident. Being cold and ever so tired, I decided to take an early shower. As I was lathering my hair in shampoo I heard the door slam. Then I heard running feet on the upstairs steps. Then I heard "thump, thunk, thump". The dog began to bark. The feet ran down the steps. The door slammed.
And then it started all over again.
No one heard my "Hey, what's going on?" shout from the shower.
When I got out of the shower, dripping wet, wrapped in the towel, three little boys filed into the house. "What was going on out there?" I asked.
S2 shrugged. "We were just playing football."
"Yah," S3 agreed too quickly.
"Why was the dog barking?" I asked.
"The dog barked?" S2 asked blankly.
"Why were you running upstairs? And going in and out of the house?" I drilled.
"Um, I don't know," S2 said slowly. I had him pegged as the ring leader.
"I feel you are not telling me something." I gave them all that mean, hard mom look which I must have mastered because, lets face it, it's hard to take someone seriously when they are wrapped in a green towel with a pink towel turban on top of her head.
S4 caved. "We threw the football to get my airplane," he squeaked out. He held up the recovered airplane for me to see.
"How did you do that?"
"Well," S2 began, all nonchalant like it was no big deal, "We just threw the football on the roof to get the plane down."
A light went on in my head. "You went upstairs and threw it out the window."
S4 nodded solemnly. He was certain I would take the airplane away now. Tears were forming in his eyes.
S3 was not admitting to anything. He was willing to let his brothers get in all the trouble and make a clear get away on this.
The three boys had run upstairs, opened the upstairs window over the kitchen, leaned out the window and thrown the football towards the airplane, attempting to hit the airplane to get it to move and fall off the roof.
It took a lot of tries.
S1 wandered in the front door about this time. "What's going on?" he asked, looking us all over. S2 tossing his football from hand to hand. S3's eyes huge and his feet fidgety. S4's head hung low with tears dripping down his face. Mama in a towel in the middle of the room.
"Where have you been?" I demanded.
"I was in my shop. Why?" he asked, thinking he should have stayed there.
I turned back to the other three. "That was NOT a wise idea." I could see them holding up the window — it doesn't stay up on its own — while they leaned far out the window to toss out the football. "No football till you play with Daddy," I added.
The three nodded solemnly. I headed for the bedroom to get dressed, S1 hung around to get S2's story.
Really, why am I exhausted at the end of the day?