I was the only child, you see, and the youngest grandchild on both sides by a minimum of 10 years, so stories like this are foreign to me....

This happened at Bou's house tonight:

"Today the boys informed me they were going to have Bones put on his Hulk costume and then shoot nerf stuff at his butt to see if he could feel it. Nice. The crap they come up with amazes me.

So I'm in the kitchen making a salad and I hear, "Let's punch him now and see if he feels it!"

Yeah, that's never a good thing to hear.

I was in that room within fractions of a second to find my youngest standing in the middle of the room, but almost looking bow legged. I shouted, "STOP! There WILL BE NO PUNCHING!"

They know the rules: the Be No's of this home. There will be no punching. There will be no kicking. There will be no spitting. Or typically as I say it, "There will be no punching, kicking, hitting, spitting or beating of each other!"

All three of them looked at me blank faced like, "Are YOU talking TO ME?" Like they were innocent. I heard them. I HEARD THEM!

Finally one of the eldest said, "Mom, we're going to hit him in the weenie; he can't feel it. He's wearing 20 pairs of underwear"

Posted by: caltechgirl at 11:06 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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