Schooled

I’ll admit it. There’s only so much fighting betwixt my sons over trucks, tracks, dinosaurs, trains, blocks, and tools that this mother (that’s me) can handle.

I’m more accustomed to siblings fighting over clothes. That’s the sort of thing I can understand and rally for/against. But that is currently not my lot in life. No. I am now more of the hammer monitor, the Thomas divvy-upper, the block Godzilla catcher, and the truck sharer/snatch preventer.

So yes, on occasion, after hours of fulfilling all the above titles, I have been known to yell, “You boys are driving me nuts!” Probably with more exclamation points.

But the last time I used this exclamation, my smart stinker but-oh-so-cute son Bosco replied politely and matter-of-factly, “Oh Mommy, that’s what boys do. That’s why we’re here. We’re supposed to make you nuts,” and went right back to sawing the couch in half.

Now at first I laughed because this is coming from a boy who has also just recently said that the last thing he needs to do to become a grown-up is to pee standing up.

But try as I might, I can’t find any flaws in his logic.