Do you ever find yourself making a rule for something which you assumed was understood, but somehow it wasn't, and so there you are saying something which sounds utterly ridiculous? A rule such as Don't blow your nose on your sheets no matter how desperately you need a tissue in the middle of the night. Or, Don't look around when you're urinating because you'll aim in the direction you're looking and Don't draw a turtle on the science room wall at school and then sign your name.
Let's see ... I have more:
You can't place a Playmobil Pirate on top of a light bulb because the pirate will melt (and it did).
The ironing board is not a slide (this, after my board was reconfigured into the letter U).
It is inappropriate to whisper Paul Blart, Mall Cop in the middle of Mass (don't ask).
No throwing a ball in the house (this one started off vague, but over time it included soccer balls, footballs, bouncy balls, basketballs, and even balled up socks).
Oh, and never,ever run and jump over the back of the couch to claim a spot ... someone might be napping unseen (Dad was).
A few years ago I was cleaning the boys' bathroom when I realized they didn't have any soap in the shower. My heart stopped beating because I was trying to think when was the last time I cleaned their shower so I could figure out how long they had been without soap. A day? A week? When I questioned my son he said he didn't think it mattered because if you stand under the shower the water washes everything off anyway. I mean, really. So then I found myself making the following rule: When you take a shower, you have to use soap. Then, after a slight hesitation I added, And Shampoo! because, well, you never know.
The deodorant incident. Now THAT has become the stuff of legends in our family. Several years ago our other son (again, no names) was getting ready for a formal party and came downstairs looking handsome in khaki pants and a navy blazer ... a blazer with streaks of a mysterious white residue under each arm. Evidently, he thought that the very same deodorant which smelled great on his armpits would smell doubly great on the armpits of his jacket. Who has to make a rule that deodorant is only for armpits and not clothes? Me, that's who. Luckily we had a spare jacket because, let me tell you, that deodorant wasn't coming off.
What is it with boys? Sometimes I think: Have I forgotten anything? Left out any details? What else have I assumed was common sense in my world but, somehow, overlooked in their world?
Maybe I need to start thinking like them.
Okay. Uhm ... new rule for me: Don't even go there.
|The day my Three Wise Men became Two Wise Men.|