It’s a cruel, cruel summer. Why? Because I’m making the kids start school on July 2nd this year. What?! Why?? Because bored kids become annoying kids.
Plus, the science project coming up next week for Boy7 involves lining up 109 mini marshmallows in the diameter of a big paper circle to see how many Earths would fit in the diameter of the sun. You can anticipate the happy outcome of that, can’t you? That’s right: post-project Rice Krispie treats. (eyebrow wiggle)
Today the boys planted some flowers in some pots. I wanted the boys to have a living thing to care for. Boys need something to nurture just as much as girls do. In fact, people who think that boys and girls or men and women are completely different from each other haven’t taught a 3rd 4th and 5th grade girl’s class at church. Those little girls farted and burped and jumped around the room as much as any boy ever did. Oh, all the farting and burping! And they’d laugh and laugh at each and every gaseous eruption. Apparently, it just never gets old.
On the other hand, I’ve had more men get teary-eyed in front of me than women. I won’t name names, and probably none of you know this guy, because I’ve never written about him, but I had a single guy friend a number of years ago who told me, all teary-eyed, “All I want in a girlfriend is someone to snuggle with on the couch, watching movies.”
I told his story to another single guy friend of mine from that same time, and he said, with a hitch in his voice, “That’s all any of us want,” and his eyes welled up and he sniffed and blew his nose into a hanky. Sheesh.
I dunno. I’ve subjected poor Darling Husband to endless musings on how different men and women really are from each other innately vs. how much we’re conditioned to be different. And I think we all see what we want to see. If you want to see the sexes as different, you’ll see all the differences. But if you want to see them as the same, then you’ll see the similarities. The truth must lie somewhere in the middle.
Which is why, if you remember, Boy7 chose a sweet pink and white bunny piñata for his birthday, but then gleefully joined in with the other boys chanting, “Kill the innocent bun-NY” as they all beat it with sticks. We’re all such a mix. And this is also why I bought the boys flowers to nurture on the same day I finally signed them up for their karate lessons.
If anyone asks, I can always say that I’m raising them to be like Samurai. Tradition says that Samurai were the fiercest of warriors, yet the most tender of poets, and loved working in their gardens. Which were fertilized with the crushed bones of their enemies!
Ok. I made up that last part. Maybe. But I wouldn’t put it past them.
As part of getting ready for school to start, I tidied up the house a bit. It wasn’t too bad, but there were a few piles of papers that were growing out of control and terrorizing the dust bunnies who were hiding under the hutch, and the bookcases were at it again with the wild parties.
Here’s a picture of me cleaning, taken by Boy9.
While the vacuum was on, I popped off the hose so I could vacuum up the Dorito crumbs from the edges of that piece of furniture there, when I heard a THMPH noise. Huh?
I looked around. What was that noise?
That’s when I noticed that the sock I use to dust with was …. gone. See the cans of dusting spray in the picture? Yes. But where’s the dusting sock? And note, in the picture, that the hose was riiiight next to the cans of dusting stuff.
Boy7 shone a light through the tube, and I checked for the sock, but it wasn’t there.
I looked in the vacuum bag, and it wasn’t there, either. Or at least not on the top. I guess it got smooshed deep in the bag from the force of the vacuum. Who knows? But it’s gone now.
Speaking of gone, I really should go and get in the habit of getting to bed early. Because school starts bright and early on Monday, you know.