I know that a good amount of interesting things occurred this week. But for the life of me I can’t remember them. In light of last week’s blog it’s kind of funny, but I didn’t write them down. I do remember that Sweet Boy #2 lost a sticker for some kind of epic mess… There were some injuries from the week before that I forgot to mention. Sweet Boy #2 running around the Hunky Hubby in wild circles until he accidentally hit the corner of a wall and turned the entire inside of his ear black with bruises. And then when I was holding a plate in the kitchen and turned just as Sweet Boy #2 was rushing toward me and the edge of the plate hit him in the forehead and left an impressive dent. And that there were many moments when I had to breathe deeply and march them into their rooms for quiet time. But it is all pretty much a blurr.
So I will tell you about our adventure. That was just yesterday and I happen to be able to recall it. On Saturday the Hunky Hubby was gone helping a friend move out of his apartment and so I had the boys solo for one night and all of the next day. After Saturday morning cartoons and a disappointing Internet search for a classical education textbook on the detailed workings of train innards with good pictures, we desperately rushed out of doors.
I had packed lunches for everyone and each boy had his in a little back pack. We grabbed the stroller and puddle boots and our huge doggy and set off for the pond. The boys spent all of 15 seconds wading gently in the muddy waters before they yanked up some old cattails and plunged in, well above the tops of their puddle boots.
They sloshed about, waist deep making black, silty waves, madly waving their cattail fishing rods, stomping after goldfish, and getting their boots suctioned stuck to the gunk at the bottom. Our doggy barked incessantly being a fetch addict and the boys yelled and stomped and fell and sloshed and screamed and it was truly glorious until it began to rain and then I threw the two younger ones into the stroller, creating great puddles where the water was brimming out of their boots, and my oldest rushed off cross country ahead of us to Grammys.
We arrived at Grammy’s and the boys stripped down to nothing and near nothing on the porch and marched into her house just in time to see Grammy and Grandpa cleaning fish. So I got a towel for the waist of the naked one (some of you can guess which one that was and you would be right) and they all stood on stools watching the slicing of fresh trout with rapt attention. It was a glorious Saturday. And a true boy adventure.